Realm of the Twilight
by StalkingLight
Summary: When the Shadow Lord strikes back at Vana’diel, one White Mage must question the truth of the Four Artifacts, and their power in the Realm of the Twilight…for you, Ashy.
1. Enter The Twilight

**Realm of the Twilight **

**Chapter 1: Enter the Twilight**

Disclaimers: I do not hold any claim over Final Fantasy XI or any other of the Final Fantasy games. The only character that I own is Ylinestra, my White Mage.

Summary: When the Shadow Lord strikes back at Vana'diel, one White Mage must question the truth of the Four Artifacts, and their power in the Realm of the Twilight….for you, Ashy.

Authors Note: Here it is, guys. This is the promised story. Realm of the Twilight was written for my friends in Final Fantasy XI. I decided one day that I would like to make up a fictional story that included real people, somewhere. I appreciate all comments and reviews, but I am not seriously going to try and make this the best fiction on this site. Still, feel free to contact me with any questions or suggestions. This is for you, Ashy.

* * *

_Silence…_

Sunlight filtered into the clearing, highlighting the mists of dawn that were only just beginning to leave. Huge towering statues loomed over the circle, threatening any who dare enter. The red markings that scorched the ground seemed to glow for a brief second as the sun roes higher, bathing the ruins in a bloody crimson downpour.

A Forest Hare slowly emerged from the minimal grass in the walkway leading to the circle and entered the large platform, carefully sniffing the air. It hopped a few paces inward, before stiffening and fleeing back from whence it came, just in time vanishing from sight as a broad shouldered Elvaan strode into the clearing.

He was strange looking, even to those of his own kind. He wore a long black cape, which stood out like a stain on a white shirt in the morning sun. The worn out looking scabbard that was slung about his left hip sported a wiry katana. His long black hair was tied in a loose ponytail that swished back and forth as he confidently made his way into the center of the circle, slowly revolving on the spot. From head to toe the Elvaan was black as night.

On his left wrist sat a silver bracelet, disrupting the Elvaan's black ensemble. Four bands of the thinnest of silver intertwined around his wrist, crossing and overlapping one another. In the middle of the four bands there was a crystalline gem. As the Elvann continued to revolve, his left hand passed through a small patch of light, where a faint brown glimmer shone deep from within the crystal clearly before fading away.

"I know you're hiding here, Searcher."

_Stillness…_

Silence, then a sudden burst of wind as an Ahriman arose from underneath the platform. Its one eye glared at the impudent mortal.

"What is it now? That annoying Mithra was sniffing about here earlier, she's bound to come back any time!" the creature snapped.

The Elvaan was undisturbed by Searcher's rude tone. He paced a few steps forward towards the Ahriman.

"Semih Lafihna is of no concern to us, Searcher," the tall Elvaan said. "Do you still have it? Is it safe"

Searcher glared some more, as if deciding whether or not to immediately succumb to the Elvaan. The Arhiman wilted, however, as the Elvaan's shard onyx eyes pierced deep within it. Trembling, Searcher summoned his pet.

_Nothingness…_

The Black Dragon roared its annoyance at being awoken. It reared its great head to the sky, spitting a foul stream of black smoke. The Elvaan looked up at it, unimpressed, before striding over to it and unsheathing his sword.

"My Dragon!" Searcher screeched, helplessly watching as the Elvaan easily destroyed his pet. The Black Dragon vainly tried spell after spell to save itself, only to have all of them resisted by the mysterious warrior. "I have it, I have it! It's safe inside of him, oh, my precious! Have mercy, Marrok!"

Marrok unfeelingly lowered his katana and gestured grandly at the Arhiman to proceed towards the now whimpering dragon. Searcher darted forward, mumbling a few words to his pet before careful placing a paw on the dragon's stomach.

A flash of red light, then suddenly Searcher's paw sunk inside the Black Dragon's stomach. The Arhiman grunted as he moved his hand this way and that. Finally the creature broke into a sickening grin and pulled his hand out. He proudly held out the item to Marrok.

_Do you understand?_

The Elvaan slowly held the item up to the light. He turned it around several times. Then he held it up close to the bracelet he wore on his left wrist. The brown light shone even more strongly in the bracelet than it had earlier. Marrok nodded once, then handed the item back to Searcher, who replaced it back into his pet, and continued to croon to it.

"Make sure no one finds that," Marrok warned, menacingly placing a hand on his katana, "or there will be a price to pay. One which you will suffer for thousands of years to come."

The Arhiman growled low in its throat, but held its tongue. The Elvaan nodded again, then abruptly turned and walked out of the circle, down the pathway to Giddues.

"What's so important about it, anyways?" Searcher muttered, not really meaning for Marrok to hear him. The Elvaan did, nonetheless, and turned his sharp soulless eyes back on the Arhiman.

_These are the consequences…_

"There are worse things than death. Do you understand?"

Searcher gulped, instinctively realizing that he had tread to far. Marrok laughed softly, cruelly, under his breath, before turning his back on the creature and exiting into Giddues.

"These are the consequences."

_…if reign should fall to the Shadow Lord…_

"Ashy, let thy spirit be renewed!"

The faint glimmering residue of magic surrounded the Red Mage before fading away. Ashy wiped his brow as he flashed a quick grin to their healer.

"Thanks, Ylin!"

Ylinestra of Bastok flashed a grin of his own. "Hey, someone's got to help you!"

The White Mage's cheeky grin faded, however, as the Black Dragon suddenly swiveled around to face him. Ylinestra squeaked and turned tail, nearly tripping over the body of Searcher. "Now someone needs to help me!"

"Here!" Knopfler cried, Provoking the monster. The Dragon roared in frustration as its attention was drawn to the Warrior.

"Steady, now!" Ylinestra turned at the sound of Arbenzio's voice, who came running up to his side. "You alright there, Ylin?"

"I'm fine," Ylinestra panted, clutching his side. "Its tail got me, just a scratch."

The Black Dragon roared again, spewing its deadly cursed breath. Knopfler quickly sidestepped to the side as Sylphyin came up behind it. Seven hits before they had to retreat away again, Ashy spamming enfeebling spells on it.

Arbenzio's deadly glare relaxed into a smile.

"Good," he stated, clapping Ylinestra on the shoulder. "Can't have anything happening to my 'Bio, now can I?"

Ylinestra laughed lightly as Arbenzio's face transformed into an annoyed scowl. "Of course, I would be able to help you more if the stupid beast hadn't cursed me." The Black Mage's eyes remained fastened on their main tank Ticia, who attacked the Black Dragon with Red Lotus Blade.

"Oh, almost forgot," he exclaimed. Ylinestra barely had time to wonder how he could have such a nonchalant tone before the crazy Black Mage was force feeding a bottle of Yagudo Drink down his throat. Ylinestra spluttered and coughed as the strong liquid caused a waterfall of fire down his trachea.

"Y-You could have just—" cough "—asked me to drink it, you maniac!" Ylinestra half shouted, desperately gasping in some air.

"But you're much to slow," Arbenzio stated serenely, downing a bottle for himself. He wiped is mouth before throwing the empty bottle at the Dragon. It crashed against its flank, though the Dragon didn't even flinch.

"That's better," Arbenzio mumbled, eyes closed as he experienced the rush of the Yagudo Drink. Ylinestra let out a breath of surprise as he felt the same rush suddenly flow through him. Smiling as his magic came back to him, the White Mage nodded his thanks to the other, only to find that the "fighter" Arbenzio had come back. The Black Mage's sharp black eyes zoned in on the Red Mage warily circling the Dragon to get behind it.

"This is it," he warned as the sparks of a job ability began crackling off Ashy. Arbenzio raised his hand in preparation of a spell. "Brace yourself!"

Ylinestra sucked in a breath as Ashy, Knopfler, Sylphyin, and Ticia charged the great beast. He got two Cure spells in before they attacked.

Ashy groaned, massaging his arms as Ylinestra poured hot water into the basin.

"Man, that was some fight," he laughed. "We should do it again!"

Three shouts of "No!" arose around the den.

Ashy wilted. "What?" he mumbled.

Ylinestra laughed softly as he pushed the steaming basin underneath Ashy's upraised feet, who lowered them into the comforting water with a sigh.

"Where did Arben run off to?" Ticia wondered aloud from where she sat next to Knopfler.

"I think he muttered something about selling the dagger he received from the Dragon at the Auction House," Ylinestra commented as he made his way over to the bed, where Sylphyin lay sleeping. The Thief had sustained the worst injuries from the fight, and was now fighting back a fever. Ylinestra gently wiped Sylphyin's fevered brow with a wet cloth before setting out to bandage his arms and middle.

"Finally, we've finished Mission 6," Knopfler murmured happily.

Ticia nodded. "Yes, we can return home to Bastok now…."

Ylinestra continued wrapping the bandages around Sylphyin's arm but inside he froze. He didn't have to turn around to know that everyone inside the Moghouse was staring at him.

It was well known that the White Mage planned to change allegiances from Bastok to Windurst after the completion of Mission 6. After visiting the prominent nation of magic and spells, Ylinestra had fallen in love with the bustling city. Not only was it home to _the _most famous mages and alchemists, Windurst was a nation where magic simply thrived. Access to the most elusive of tomes, teachers, scrolls, and enrollment in the prestigious School of Magic—such things were only the beginning of the chance for him to become a true mage. It had taken him all of two minutes to decide that his life belonged in Windurst.

Still, the thought of leaving his friends and cherished moments of Bastok pained him. Memories of leveling under the quiet mountains of Gustaberg and traveling with ones dear to him did not pass away so easily. If only Windurst and Bastok weren't separated by the entire breadth of an ocean!

Ylinestra sighed quietly. He had put off the matter for long enough. Now he had to make his choice—to return home to a life he knew with his friends, or set out on a new adventure to achieve his dreams of mastering the essence of magic.

The White Mage straightened up from the bed and replaced the wet cloth over the sink to dry before cautiously turning his head to his teammates. He felt a flush sweep over his face has he came face to face with Knopfler's frank stare.

Ah yes, the Warrior had been talking about it as well. Ylinestra wondered how the others would take it.

Suddenly Ashy sighed. "Ylin, please reconsider? Windurst is a heck of a long ride from Bastok, we'll never be able to see you again."

Ylinestra shook his head. "We'll still have the linkshell, Ashy. It's not as though I'm severing all my ties with Bastok! We can still keep in touch, and the now that we all have our Chocobo licenses, we can visit each other in record time."

"But it's not the same!" Ticia burst out. "We won't have you, with us! You'll be miles away, across the sea, while the rest of us are cut off from you. Little brother…."

Ylinestra turned away from them, stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest. He bit his lip, already feeling the sting of tears brush across his eyes. He wouldn't cry, darn it! He had planned this ever since first visiting Windurst, and his friends, as much as he loved them, just couldn't understand the passion he had for magic. He would not be swayed—not now, he had come too far.

The White Mage stiffened as a hand suddenly fell onto his shoulder, recognizing the voice that came with it from behind him. "Ylin, I—"

"I'm back, my friends!" came the booming voice of Arbenzio as said Black Mage burst into the Moghouse, followed closely by Uuyui. Ylinestra's Moogle zoomed out of his comfy corner as the overexcited Hume tracked mud into the den, squealing protests. Arbenzio sent the small creature an apologetic nod before turning to the group.

"Well well well, what a sorry bunch of faces we have here!" he remarked, slowly scanning each person. "What's been happening since I've left for the last two minutes, eh?"

Ylinestra shook off Knopfler's hand as he stepped forward to help the little Moogle clean up. "We were just talking about the fight, Arbenzio. Were you able to sell your dagger at a good price?"

If Arbenzio noticed the abrupt change of subject, he gave no notice. His grin threatened to split his face in half.

"Whoo, 'Boi! I'm gonna be rolling in dough for a couple weeks!" he exclaimed with obvious glee. He paused to scratch his chin. "Speaking of which, what about that ring the Dread Dragon dropped for you, Ylin?"

Ylinestra stared at his friend before realization hit him. He pulled out the Ring of Divination from his pocket.

"I dunno," he commented, holding the ring to the fair light pouring from the lamp. It was very small, combining four thin bands of silver into an intricate weaving. In the intersection where the four bands met was embedded a crystalline jewel. If one looked closely enough, a faint shimmer of green shone from the inside of the crystal.

"I checked with the broker when we got home," Ylinestra continued. Uuyui held out his hand, and Ylinestra obligingly gave him the ring for inspection. "He examined it, but said that the Auction House had never had a ring like this one, so I couldn't sell it."

"Attributes?" Arbenzio questioned, plopping himself on the carpet next to Ticia.

The White Mage shook his head. "None. I can't equip it, either."

"Well then, another one for the trash, eh?" Arbenzio winked. "Of course, I hear that the black market in San d'Oria is thriving during this time of year—"

Ylinestra quickly snatched the ring back from Uuyui and pocketed it. "Ah no, Arbenzio! You're just hoping I'll fetch a pretty price and happily join you in your splurging ways!"

Arbenzio affected a pained look on his face as he held his right hand over his heart.

"Oh, 'Bio!" he cried. "How could you think so lowly of me? Whenever have I tried to convert your innocent and honest ways to ones of treachery and unreliability? I would never, ever think to do so!"

"Really?" Ylinestra sniped back. He pulled out an expensive looking vase from his Mogsafe. "Then why is it you practically held me hostage until I agreed to spending 300k for this absolutely worthless vase?"

Arbenzio scoffed. "Hostage?" he cried. "My dear boy, I merely gave you a slight shove in the direction of the Auction House! And that authentic vase was made in the outer regions of Norg, by a very famous crafter. It is most certainly not worthless, my lad. Why, that vase perfectly comments this Persian rug you have here in you lovely house," he added, running his bare foot through said plush carpet.

"Which, by the way, cost me another 550k," Ylinestra scowled.

"Ah, but would your house look anyway near as well off as it does now? So really, it's all thanks to my genius that you have been able to—mpfh!"

"If you hush, I'll take it off," Ticia promised as she removed her hand from the clothing pin she had just placed over Arbenizo's mouth. The Black Mage made to remove the painful item, but dutifully lowered his hand at Ticia's warning glare.

Ylinestra shook his head at his friends' antics. "Besides, you never throw away items you can't sell or trade unless you're absolutely sure what they're for," he reprimanded, making his way to the kitchen, where a lovely roasted chicken lay waiting for preparation. The Moogle squeaked and fluttered over to help him prepare dinner. "It could be for a quest, or maybe another mission."

"If you get any gil, I want some…."

"Sylphyin!" Seven voices cried in relief as the Thief blearily stared into the house form his position on the bed.

"Welcome back to the living, man," Ashy chuckled, helping Sylphyin sit up with his back to the headboard. "How 'ya feeling?"

Sylphyin carefully shook his head. "Como acabo del golpe de obtener en la cara con una sartén de hierro fundido."

"Ah, of course!" Arbenzio exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. "I should have known how he was—mhpf!"

Arbenzio sullenly folded his arms over his chest, staring down at his lip which now contained three clips, as Ticia threateningly held up a fourth.

Sylphyin let out a weak chuckle, which was followed by a hearty guffaw by Ashy. Suddenly the entire house burst into laughter, save Arbenzio, who glared at everyone and sulked some more. In a fit of childness he grabbed a pillow and threw into the general bulk of his friends. Knopfler retaliated by picking up another one and letting it fly, where it landed in Ticia's face. Soon the house was filled with laughter, feathers, and a little Moogle screaming, "What is wrong with this linkshell, kupo!"

Ylinestra smiled as the fluffy white feathers gently fell onto his face. He was going to miss this….


	2. Meetings and Partings

**Realm of Twilight**

**Chapter 2: Meetings and Partings**

Disclaimers: I do not hold any claim over Final Fantasy XI or any other of the Final Fantasy games. The only character that I own is Ylinestra, my White Mage.

Summary: When the Shadow Lord strikes back at Vana'diel, one White Mage must discover the truth of the Four Artifacts, and their power in the Realm of the Twilight….for you, Ashy.

Authors Note: Here it is, guys. This is the promised story. Realm of the Twilight was written for my friends in Final Fantasy XI. I decided one day that I would like to make up a fictional story that included real people, somewhere. I appreciate all comments and reviews, but I am not seriously going to try and make this the best fiction on this site. Still, feel free to contact me with any questions or suggestions. This is for you, Ashy.

Side Notes: These characters are not the exact same ones as the ones in Final Fantasy XI. I mean this in respect to their appearances. As some of my friends chose the same characters, hairstyles, and hair colors, I have decided to change the physical appearances of some of them, including my own, Ylinestra. Just so you know, when you see a description of male Hume with green hair down to his feet, or something to that regard.

**Vivli: **"I can't equip it" is my way of rationalizing certain aspects in the game that make no sense in real life. For example, it's completely true that a person would just be able to slip on the Ring—however, in Vana'diel, some jewelry and such are used for quests, and are not equipment pieces. The Ring of Divination is like such. Later on, Ylinestra will put on the Ring, but it won't contribute to his status in anyway. Such, it's not a piece of equipment. I hope this explanation made some sense, because reading back, it doesn't make that sense much to me.

* * *

_"Hey, watch out!"_

_Ylinestra whirled just in time to avoid the large swipe of a rusty curved blade. The Young Quadav roared and charged at the White Mage._

_"Ugh, can't I get a moment to replenish my MP?" Ylinestra growled angrily before stepping into fighting position. Even before he struck his first blow, Ylinestra realized he would be bloodporting back home. He had used all his MP in the previous fight, and his HP was already reduced to more than halfway. This was just not going to be his day. He had only just reached level 7, too! And considering how long it took to level any mage class—_

_Ylinestra cried out as his staff was ripped from his bruised hands and thrown several feet away from him. The Young Quadav screeched and flew at the hapless White Mage, crashing into him with a full body tackle. Ylinestra landed on his back, gasping loudly as he tried to desperately regain his breath. The only thing his mind was able to comprehend was the scream that tore its way up from his throat as he stared up into burning red eyes._

"_Here!"_

_Suddenly the Young Quadav had pulled itself off of him. Ylinestra finally felt the breath that had escaped from him during his fall come rushing back into him. Still, Ylinestra lay on the ground for a few more mind numbing moments. Finally he was able to pull himself into a sitting position, where he caught a glimpse of the Young Quadav giving a last painful shout before falling to the ground in defeat. _

_Ylinestra urged his body to stand on its feet. Unfortunately, his body stubbornly still refused. The White Mage sighed._

_"Hey, are you okay?"_

_Ylinestra, startled, turned the top half of his body around to find himself staring up into a Hume male silhouetted against the sun. The White Mage gasped at the blinding light, quickly bringing his right hand up to shadow his sensitive eyes. _

_A rich baritone voice laughed. "Here, take my hand."_

Take my hand and step into the Twilight….

Ylinestra slowly realized that his savior was holding out a hand for him. The White Mage gratefully accepted it and was pulled up from his dusty seat, coming face to face with a Red Mage.

_The Red Mage smiled and gently dusted off Ylinestra's arm in a show of companionship. He laughed again and ran a hand through his closely cropped blonde hair._

_"Wow, lucky I was passing by," he stated serenely. "Darn beasts, they'll agro pretty much anything." He paused, scratching his chin. "Well, you should probably get back to town, alright? Be careful." The Red Mage nodded before turning away and jogging up the rocky slope._

_"W-Wait!" Ylinestra stammered, at last finding his voice. The Red Mage stopped and turned back around to face him. The White Mage quickly scrambled over the rocks to stand next to the Red Mage. _

_"T-Thank you for saving me!" Ylinestra exclaimed, holding out his hand. "My name is Ylinestra, Bastok citizen and proud of it!" _

_The Red Mage stared at him, before almost shyly taking his hand in a firm handshake. His facial expression softened into something more whimsical. _

_"Nice to meet you, Ylinestra. Call me Uuyui."_

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…Congratulations, Ylinestra! You are now a party-warty of Windurst!"

Ylinestra jerked awake from his daze to blearily stare at the beaming TaruTaru. It took him a few more second to realize that the citizenship leader was holding out his packet of transcript papers. Ylinestra quickly took the proffered paperwork in an attempt to redeem himself. The TaruTaru just smiled, however, and held out his hand.

"We can always use another magey-wagey here in Windurst," he said. "It's nice to meet you, Ylinestra!"

The White Mage offered the friendly TaruTaru a rather shaky smile and shook the proffered hand, unable to shake off the feeling that something had gone terribly amiss.

"So…how is it in Windurst, Ylin?"

Ylienstra laughed lightly over the linkshell pearl as he rummaged through his Mogsafe. "I can't even begin to describe it, Ashy. It's simply amazing. I've spent all day exploring Windurst and there's still so much to see!"

Ashy laughed, a little forcefully. "Well, I'm happy for you. We…we all really miss you, Ylin."

Ylinestra let out a whimsical sigh. "I miss you guys too. How are things back ho—back in Bastok?"

"Same old, same old. We finished Mission 3-1 today! Those Copper Quadav didn't stand a chance. It was real easy with Arbenzio casting spells every which way. That guy…."

Ylinestra laughed to himself as he finally found a dark crystal. The White Mage lovingly stroked the petals of a beautiful pink flower before taking the crystal over to a sapling, which was not doing as well. The leaves had wilted a little, and the stem was bent over. Ylinestra carefully planted the crystal inside the pot, feeling his mind start to slip away. He could just imagine Arbenzio crazily shouting spell after spell at the unsuspecting Quadav. Ashy would be trailing behind him, swinging his sword against anything that came across his path. Ticia and Knopfler would, no doubt, be trying to calm things down a bit, to no avail of course….

"Hey Ylin, speaking of mages, there was a weird Windurstian running around Bastok today."

Ylinestra snapped out of his musings, zoning in on this odd news. "Weird? How did you know he was a Windurstian?"

The White Mage could clearly hear Ashy shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Well, he was an Elvaan, but his cloak had the sigma of Windurst woven onto it. He just felt…weird. He looked like a big storm cloud, really, flying all over town and looming over people."

"Did you find out what he was doing in Bastok?"

"…."

"….Of course you did, you're Ashy."

"_And?"_

"sigh Forgive me, Oh Great One, for doubting you!"

"You are forgiven."

Ylinestra rolled his eyes, clearly able to see Ashy's tongue sticking out at him in his mind's eye. "Well?"

"Actually, I only found out because he literally grabbed me from where I was standing, in front of the Auction House doing absolutely nothing mind you, and dragged me over to the side. Said he was doing a survey about mages, and asked me a few questions."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Little things, like why I decided to be a Red Mage, and whether or not I planned to keeping training it into the higher levels."

"That's strange."

"Sure is. He got kind of weird, though. He started asking me about monsters I had fought recently, particularly any Notorious Monsters. Asked if I had gotten any weird drops from them, too. Absolute bogus. I finally realized that he was a scammer, probably trying to see if I had anything worthwhile to steal. So I told him to shove off or I would do it for him."

This time a picture of a maniacly laughing Ashy pushing an kind elderly Elvaan folk into the freezing waters underneath Bastok Markets forced its way into Ylinestra's mind. "Well, I'm glad nothing happened to you."

"Thanks, Ylin. Hey, you gonna visit any time soon? We're staring Mission 3-2 soon, we could use a White Mage—"

"I'm sorry Ashy, I don't know if I'll be able to make it over there anytime soon. There's still a lot of paperwork I need to finish up, and my Moogle still hasn't transferred everything from Bastok yet."

"…A-Ah, I understand, Ylin. Well, I guess we'll talk to you later, then?"

Ashy's voice, Ylinestra dully noted, had suddenly dropped in pitch and passion. His bland tone didn't fit the usually ecstatic Red Mage at all.

"I…yeah, I'll see you later, then. Hey Ashy—"

The empty space that greeted his ears informed Ylinestra that his friends had shut off his connection with the linkshell. He too also turned off his pearl, barely noticing that the bright sunny sky outside had been clouded over with gray.

_"Hey, over here Ylin!"_

_Ylinestra swiveled around on the spot, laughing as he spotted Knopfler on the bridge over the North Gustaberg waterfall. Vareesa was with him, the playful Mithra practically jumping up and down in excitement. Standing next to Knopfler was two Humes, one a Red Mage, the other a Warrior. _

_"Sorry I'm late," the White Mage panted as he came skidding to a stop in front of his friend. "You know Bastok Markets this time of year—it's a madhouse. I was barely able to get out alive!" Ylinestra took a deep breath, also taking time to smooth back his usually silky but now ruffled golden hair. _

_"That's alright, Ylin," Knopfler said, coming forward to slap his friend on the back. "In fact, you gave me some time to round up some help. Ylinestra, this is Ashy and Ticia."_

_The Red Mage stepped forward with a loud exclamation of "How 'ya doin' there, Ylin!", accompanied by a furious whirlwind of shaking hands. Ashy looked very similar to Uuyui, Ylinestra realized in surprise. The same closely cropped blonde hair for sure, but Ashy had deep green eyes, whilst Uuyui's eyes were more of a molten silver. _

_Ylinestra freed his hand from the death grip of the other, rubbing it slightly. "I-It's very nice to meet you, Ashy," he managed to say, and was rewarded by another beaming smile. _

_The brunette Warrior stepped forward, also holding out her hand. "My name is Ticia, as you may have already guessed."_

_Ylinestra accepted this hand as well, after a slight moment of hesitation. Their hands connected. _

Ylin….

_The White Mage gasped and pulled back his hand, unconsciously cradling it against his chest. Ylinestra felt his face flush as he met Ticia's eyes—her own face reflected the shock he felt, and something very suspiciously close to recognition—_

_"Ylin, Ticia, let's get going! We need to get a head start if we even want a chance on getting enough Fetish parts for everyone!"_

_Ylinestra snapped himself out of revere and followed Ashy down the road. He subtly glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of Ticia, who was blatantly staring straight back at him. The White Mage held her eyes for a moment longer before quickly returning to the task at hand…_

_…Which was, apparently, healing an overexcited Red Mage who had just run head on into a Young Quadav. Ashy shouted with glee and drew out his sword with a show of relish. The others joined the war cry and charged the beast, Vareesa provoking it. _

_"How about saving our strength for when it counts, namely inside the Mines, eh Ashy?" Knopfler suggested over the chorus of clanging swords and casting of spells. _

_"But that ruins half the fun!" Ashy protested as the Young Quadav fell to the ground. "This is mentally preparing us for the challenge that lays ahead of us, Knopf. Battles before the actual battlefield are stimulating and can…oh…" The Red Mage trailed from his thought, his hand inching towards his sword, as another Young Quadav spawned not three feet away from him. _

_Ylinestra swiftly grabbed Ashy by the arm and began forcefully propelling him towards the entrance to the Palborough Mines. "Go!" he laughed, "or we'll be here for weeks to come!" _

_Ashy regretfully lowered his hand, scowling. "Fine, fine," he muttered, a hint of a pout forming at his bottom lip. "Babies." _

"What's this about?"

"Pleasey-weasy do not worry yourself about this, Ylinestra. The Chiefy-Wiefy of immigrating persons just wished to have a few words with you, is all."

Ylinestra sighed and nodded his head in acceptance. The TaruTaru bowed briefly and trotted out of the grand office, closing the massive oak doors behind him with some effort. The White Mage swung his legs a little as he sat in the humongous plush seat that was settled in front of a wide oak desk. The office was decorated in silver and black, with red trimmings along the window that overlooked Windurst Walls.

What caught the White Mages eyes, however, were the rows upon rows of magical tomes and spell scroll stacked in an enormous bookcase, placed against the west side of the room. Ylinestra mentally slapped himself as his hands involuntarily inched towards them. The only thing that kept his sanity from snapping was the sound of hurried footsteps approaching. Ylinestra barely had time to straighten his back and assume a look of nonchalance before a silk-clad Elvaan came striding into the room.

Dressed entirely in black silk, this Elvaan practically oozed authority from his persona. He wore an obsidian robe that was tied at the waist with a long Ocean's Rope. The Windurst sigma was displayed clearly over his heart, the green clashing with the solemnity of the rest of his ensemble. His silky black hair was fixed in a tight braid, which came down to right above his waist, much like Ylinestra's. In fact, with the White Mage wearing a simple White Tunic and Slacks, the two looked as opposite as night and day.

The Elvaan circled around the desk and sat down on the other side, all the time eyeing the now nervous Hume. There was something other than authority the Elvaan displayed—something more sinister. Whatever it was, Ylinestra had already decided not to trust him.

"You are White Mage Ylinestra, correct?"

The rough voice of the Elvaan caught him of guard. Ylinestra quickly nodded his agreement with the statement. The Elvaan too nodded, and held out his hand to the White Mage.

"My name is Marrok, Ylinestra. I specialize as a Dark Knight."

Ylinestra smiled shakily, before gritting his teeth and grasping the other's cold hand in a quick up and down shake. Surprisingly, or at least surprising to him, he felt nothing other that the unnatural coolness of Marrok's hand. Ylinestra silently berated himself as they let go of each other, wondering what is was he had been expecting.

"Ylinestra, forgive me for calling you here so abruptly," Marrok said, leaning back against his chair. "You see, I just had a few questions for you, if you would be so kind to answer."

"Of course," Ylinestra agreed, wanting only to get this over with.

Marrok's onyx eyes seemed to have grown narrower and shaper in intensity. Ylinestra shivered as those eyes scanned over him in a well-practiced assessment. The Dark Knight seemed more interested now, for some reason. Ylinestra felt a paranormal coldness wash over him.

"Have you ever seen the Twilight, Ylinestra?"

The White Mage stared at Marrok, now fearing for the Elvaan's sanity. The Twilight? All he was able to glean from that was the capital T on the word, and figured it was probably some natural phenomenon or yearly occurring event.

"I'm afraid not," he finally settled on answering.

Marrok nodded again, much like a father would to a favorite son. "And have you ever heard of anything called the Four Artifacts?"

Ylinestra shook his head. "I have not, sorry."

The Dark Knight nodded yet again and closed his eyes, his head slowly bobbing back and forth. Suddenly he stood upright, toppling his chair over. Ylinestra had a fraction of a second to understand what was happening before Marrok had grabbed his upper arm in a vice grip and dragged him halfway across the room.

"That's all I needed to know, Ylinestra. You are free to return to your Mog House now."

"Wha-What?" Ylinestra shouted, outraged. The Elvaan had asked him all of two questions and was now throwing him out? Marrok's eyes had become mere slits, he looked so angry. A map of Giddues, lying on top of an unobtrusive desk to their right, burst into flames as they passed by it. Ylinestra could only wonder at the Elvaan's abruptchange of moodbefore he was pushed out the double doors.

The only thing that stopped his fall was the sudden presence of an arm around his middle, steadying his center of balance. Ylinestra angrily pushed himself away from the other to smolder at the large doors, which were now closed. The White Mage was considering pounding at the doors until the upstart Elvaan answered when a large hand came to rest on his shoulder.

Ylinestra turned abruptly to stare at yet another Elvaan. This one was even taller than Marrok, and was clad in a dark blue vest that complimented his Black Slacks. His silver hair framed a kind looking face, where laughing sky blue eyes looked down at him. He bent down next to Ylinestra's ear.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," he whispered, as if the two of them were sharing some great secret. "He has his mood swings—half of us here still believe he's a girl. He sure can act like one sometimes."

Ylinestra felt his anger at being so abruptly and unfairly dismissed slip away. He laughed softly and stepped back slightly to get a better look into the smiling face.

"Thanks for calming me down, I probably would have gotten myself killed if you hadn't," he joked, blushing as he realized how close that would have come to pass if this Elvaan hadn't stopped him. "And uh…thanks for breaking my fall, too. I-I'm not the most graceful of people, you realize."

The Elvaan's smile broadened, and he stuck out his gloved hand, the other keeping a tight hold on a packet of scrolls tucked underneath his arm. Ylinestra gladly accepted it.

"You're Ylinestra, right? My name is Azazer. Nice to meet you."

Ylinestra smiled. "Likewise."

Azazer chuckled before tucking the scrolls tighter under his arm. "Well, I better get going. If I don't get these to the boss soon, he'll go into his cranky child that just woke up from a nap mood." Azazer winked. "And between you and me, I would prefer his fire-breathing pissed mood than this one. He worse than any child I've seen."

'I'm glad all Elvaan aren't as stuck as Marrok,' Ylinestra thought, surprised to feel a genuine laugh force itself out of his throat. The Elvaan chuckled again under his breath too, nodded to Ylinestra, and used his shoulder to push the double doors open, quietly slipping inside.

The White Mage caught a glimpse of Marrok staring out the grand window before the doors closed.

_How could this have happened?_

_All thier hard work, weeks upon weeks of toiling in and out of the harsh mines, and all of it was coming down to this. _

_Blast Bastok. Couldn't their soldiers get their own Fetish parts?_

_Ylinestra gripped the stem of his Ash Staff tighter, hugging it to his body, as he crouched behind the large over bearing boulder. Ticia and Sylphyin had already returned to their Home Points. Knopfler lay a couple feet away to his right, dead. He was probably blaming himself for this massacre as best as someone could in the half awake, half asleep mind set one experienced when they died. A few more moments—Knopfler's body disappeared, the faint glimmer of a teleport alighting the dank tunnel briefly before plunging him back into almost absolute darkness._

_Suddenly a warm body appeared next to him. Ylinestra cried out and lashed out with his staff, only to have it blocked and brought down to where he could see his assailant's face._

_Oh…not an assailant, an alliance. Aarin's face was still fairly new to him, as they had only just met while forming an alliance to hunt Quadav for the Fetish parts. They had been doing fine until a Veteran Quadav had stumbled directly into Ashy, who had been leading the group, immediately aggroing him. At their low levels, they had been barely able to defeat the great beast when some Young Quadav had spawned. _

_That was when the massacre started._

_With all of them exhausted from the fight with the Veteran, none of them had been able to withstand the force of Young Quadav that descended upon them. Even worse, nearby Quadav had heard the commotion and joined in the fray. Soon they had been absolutely scattered amongst the long winding tunnels on Palborough Mines. Ylinestra had been blindly following Ashy when the Red Mage had turned around, grabbed him around the middle, and thrown him over the side of the ridge, about a ten-foot drop. Ylinestra involuntarily covered his ears with his hands, unconsciously trying to rid his head of Ashy's scream as the Quadav charged him from both sides. _

_"Ylin!" Aarin whispered fiercly, shaking the White mage roughly. Reciveing no response, the Warrior upturned Ylinestra's face and slapped him. Ylinestra gasped as the stinging pain brought him back from his nightmare, only to find that he was still in it. A dry sob racked its way up his throat. _

_"No, none of that now, Ylin!" Aarin hissed, continuing to shake Ylinestra back and forth. "C'mon, stay with me!" The Warrior let out a shuddering gasp of his own, before slumping against the rock, his shoulder touching Ylinestra's, offering what little comfort he could. He too held his sword ready in front of him—in all actuality, he probably wouldn't be able to let go if he wanted too. Aarin experimentally flexed his fingers, rightly finding them glued to the hilt of his sword with dried blood. He sighed again._

_"Well," the Warrior muttered, "at least we got that head you needed, eh Ylin?" Aarin paused, nudging the silent mage with his elbow. "We'll come back later, for revenge. But right now…I really want to go home."_

_Ylinestra glanced up at the tunnel wall in front of them, where the faint shadows of the Quadav were moving restlessly. They were getting bigger. _

_"First thing I'm going to do is take a nice hot bath. Ah gross, I'm covered with blood. Sick. Yeah, definitely gonna need that bath."_

_A Veteran Quadav roared, its great nostrils sniffing the air, before it suddenly caught the stench of men. It cried out and charged. The horrendous chorus of Quadav growls and keels vibrated throughout the entire Mines, echoing and bouncing off how every nook and cranny._

_Ylinestra continued to stare at the wall, where the shadows grew even larger. The large curved swords that the Quadav carried were now clearly defined in their dark counterparts. For a moment, Ylinestra imagined that he could see every jagged tooth in every Quadavs' mouths on the shadows. _

_"I hope Ticia made a batch of her brownies, too. I'm starved."_

_The White Mage turned his misted gaze onto Aarin, who was also staring at the shadows. The snuffling and loud beating of footsteps was nearly deafening now. Their roars and cries echoed solely in this corridor—they were coming up fast. Aarin winked once, and raised his sword slightly. _

_Ylinestra nodded and bowed his head over his staff, one tear slipping down his cheek. _

Ylinestra screamed as he was jolted out of his nightmare. Lighting crashed and the White Mage screamed again, still caught in the thresholds of his terrible remembrance. Clutching his hands over his heart, Ylinestra bent over his middle, gasping in great gulps of air as if he had run from Norg to Bastok and back again.

Ashy's scream was still echoing in his head. Habitually tossing his long hair back, he climbed out of bed, shivering as his bare feet touched the floor and the warm blankets receded off his silk nighttime ware. Reaching the sink, he carefully washed his face, effectively smoothing away the tears that had arisen from his dream. His stomach grumbled just then, and his mind agreed that one of Ticia's delicious brownies would put his subconscious to rest. He padded over to the pantry and threw open the sliding door, revealing his Moogle, who was desperately trying to escape the ropes tied around its wings and appendages.

Ylinestra was whirled around suddenly by a large hand on his shoulder, and was able to register two horrible crimson eyes before everything was plunged into absolute darkness.

* * *

/hides from audience. Don't kill me! I apologize if this chapter seems very abrupt and unfocused. I wanted to create a sense of urgency and regret in this chapter, for reasons you will find later. However, in my haste to do so, I think I rushed everything a little too much, and maybe made some points unfocused and unclear. Till the next chapter, my friends! 


	3. The Beginnings of Prophecy

**Chapter: The Beginnings of Prophecy**

Disclaimers: I do not hold any claim over Final Fantasy XI or any other of the Final Fantasy games. The only character that I own is Ylinestra, my White Mage.

Summary: When the Shadow Lord strikes back at Vana'diel, one White Mage must discover the truth of the Four Artifacts, and their power in the Realm of the Twilight….for you, Ashy.

Authors Note: Here it is, guys. This is the promised story. Realm of the Twilight was written for my friends in Final Fantasy XI. I decided one day that I would like to make up a fictional story that included real people, somewhere. I appreciate all comments and reviews, but I am not seriously going to try and make this the best fiction on this site. Still, feel free to contact me with any questions or suggestions. This is for you, Ashy.

Side Notes: These characters are not the exact same ones as the ones in Final Fantasy XI. I mean that in respect to their appearances. As some of my friends chose the same characters, hairstyles, and hair colors, I have decided to change the physical appearances of some of them, including my own, Ylinestra. Just so you know, when you see a description of male Hume with green hair down to his feet, or something to that regard.

* * *

Ylinestra groaned as he awoke from the realm of dreams. His head was dizzy, for some reason, and he felt like he had run a thousand miles or so in cold weather. He had been dreaming, also. Dreaming…about a seed…and a woman with short brown hair. Who?...

Oh, it was way to early for him to become philosophical. Ylinestra shivered as he rolled out of bed, pulling his White Tunic closer around him, hissing as his feet traveled from cozy carpet to cold stone. He blearily made his way over the heating globe that was floating in the corner of his bedroom.

His hand encountered stone.

Snapping awake, he realized that his heating globe was missing. And so was the painting that hung over it. Ylinestra spun around.

He was not in his room. He was, in fact, residing in a one-room suite. Everything was high class, made of the best material and lavishly decorated in white a gold. His Staff was propped up on a desk.

Quickly snatching it up, Ylinestra tried to ignore to butterflies forming in his stomach. He wasted no time and bolted out of the surprisingly unlocked door.

Apparently, his room was one of the many in this seemingly residential area. Door after door appeared before him, before finally leading him to a straircase. Quietly, he stepped down them, slowly peering out into the large chamber it led too.

The White Mage blinked. He looked up at the Star Tree. He was in Heaven's Tower?

Seeing no one nearby, Ylinestra crept into the large chamber. Star Seeds pulsed in their baskets, sending silver showers of sparks with each pulse. The White Mage, now curious but still disorientated, was about to leave when a Star Seed at the very base of the Tree caught his eye.

Instead of the shimmering silver that the other Seeds boasted, this one was a brilliant gold. It seemed to glow with each pulse sending showers of gold sparks askew. Its fuzzy exterior seemed to ripple as Ylinstra moved closer.

The White Mage was entranced. Could this be the next Star Tree? It would certainly seem so. Its warm glow pulled him in closer….

Ylinestra mentally slapped himself. Of course, he had always had an eye for gardening, but now was definitely not the time. He had to leave. Slightly disappointed, Ylinestra was even more startled as a very large frame suddenly flung his Staff off his back. The White Mage barely had time to scream before his aggressor had pinned his arms behind his back, keeping a tight hold onto them. The assailant half turned Ylinestra around, the Star Seed giving him enough light to see his face.

Ylinestra stared at his captor in surprise. "Azazer!"

The Elvaan, too, stared at his captive. "Ylinestra. What are you doing running about the Tower?"

"Trying to find out why I've been taken here in the first place," the White Mage ground out, carefully shifting in Azazer's grasp. "What's this all about?"

The once smiling blue eyes were clouded over. The Elvaan shouldered Ylinestra's staff and steered him over to the stairs, keeping a firm grip on the White Mage's arms. "Now isn't the time. I was coming for you anyways. Marrok needs to see you."

Ylinestra growled as he was propelled none to gently up the stairs. "So he's behind this? What does he want with me?"

Azazer let out a loose chuckle with no humor in it. "Not just you. Be patient."

The White Mage glared but complied, walking where Azazer led him. The Elvaan walked him past the Star Tree towards the stairs he had just descended. However, just before the entrance to the residential rooms, Azazer steered him off into a narrow passage shrouded in shadows. Further on, the passage way was dimly lit by low burning candles. Ylinestra counted a total of seven candles before his captive stopped at a seemingly blank wall.

"Agrai methíri dös prakra, lasöt arma kriúnti."

All the candles blew out.

Ylinestra cried out as, suddenly, a hand gently pushed him into the wall. Instead of feeling cold stone meeting him, however, he felt—nothing. The White Mage screamed as the sensation of falling plummeted through his stomach, and he was almost sure he had passed out when he suddenly stopped.

Everything was still dark. Panting and sweating, Ylinestra quickly groped his way across the floor, sighing in relief as his hand encountered the edge. He slid down against the wall, crossing his arms across his chest to ward the chill that seemed to sweep through the chamber.

"Hit the lights."

Dull lights flooded the chamber, sweeping over Ylinestra and highlighting the room. Blinking his eyes, the White Mage could only gasp.

Blood was everywhere. All along the walls, the floor—bits of clothing were shredded across the entire chamber.

As Ylinestra's mortified gaze moved further away from his own position, he caught sight of lumbering shapes on the wall opposite him. One of them was moving.

"A little more."

That sickening voice again. Ylinestra caught the sound of chanting—Black magic, he encantations sounded like—before the lights flared brighter, illuminating the figures in the shadows. Ylinestra could not hold back his startled cry.

"Terralyn!"

-o00o-

"Hey everyone, I got some information on Mission 4-3. We'll need to investigate an old Elvaan living somewhere here in Bastok." Ashy scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. "She's pretty reclusive, however, so we might have a hard time about it."

"I don't think that's your problem, Ashy," Knopfler murmured, grinning. "You're just put out that we won't have to do any fighting for once."

The scowl on Ashy's face increased. "And why not? Putting us on stupid jobs like this…."

Arbenzio waltzed in from the kitchen, peeling an orange as he observed Ashy. "Well now," he commented, choosing a seat near the fireplace, "this will indeed give us a break. For the better—we're all still infants in our new occupations."

At this, Ashy smiled, glancing over briefly to his wyvern Firewing, who was reclining by the fireplace, crooning softly as he dreamed. Nearly all of the linkshell's members had moved into the advanced jobs, using their old occupations to support their new ones. And Arbenzio's words rang true—it would have been unwise to rush into an important fight while they were all still learning to control their new powers and abilities. In fact, the only one of them that had not change from his path—

Everyone noticed as Ashy's smile faded from his face. Everyone knew what he was thinking.

"…How do you think he's doing?" Ticia asked softly, breaking the uncomfortable silence. The Paladin paused, before adding, "We…haven't heard from him in a while."

Ashy's face was turned towards the window.

Knopfler sighed, placing what he hoped was a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I bet he's doing just fine, Ticia," he said. "He's just tied up with all the political issues that go along with changing allegiances. It's not like Bastok and Windurst have been on the friendliest terms in the last couple of years."

Arbenzio nodded to the Bard. "That is true," he murmured, serenely fingering the scythe laid across his lap. "Windurst has always been distrustful of peoples from outside nations. Rumors say that they have incredible secrets they have guarded for centuries." The Dark Knight looked up. "Legend says that at the end of the Great War, Windurst received the trust of the Deity to take charge of an item that helped bring about the destruction of Vana'diel. Many have tried to claim such a powerful item—all who have, died. Some say that it's locked up deep in Heaven's Tower, guarded by the most powerful and fearsome mages and fighters in history."

"Helped bring about the destruction," Sylphyin quipped. The Ninja looked interested. "What do you mean, 'helped'?"

"According to the Legend, there is more than one item that contains the power to destroy Vana 'diel. They were created millenniums ago, by someone whose name has been lost throughout the ages." Arbenzio smiled mysteriously. "They say that this person has to power to Kill."

"Kill?" Ticia frowned. "I can kill."

The Moghouse erupted in laughter, Ashy finally turning around to face the rest of the group. The Dark Knight's smile died.

"Not kill, Ticia. _Kill_. The power to permanently delete a person's soul." (1)

The laughter stopped abruptly.

"I…I didn't think that was possible," Knopfler whispered. "There's actually someone that can Kill?"

Arbenzio grinned, showing his canines. "According to Windurstians, yes. They also say that this person killed himself with his own sword, evoking an ancient magic that gave his sword the power to Kill anyone it had slain. The Sword was named after the person, but has been lost ever since. No one knows where it resides now. Only that, on some nights, when the moon is full, the Sword will roam throughout the land, looking for souls to Kill…and when it finds one, it—"

_Bang!_ The firecracker exploded at Sylphyin's feet. Screams erupted, Ticia leaping a clear foot from the bed to land face first on the ground, Knopfler flailing backwards, flipping his chair clear over. Arbenzio's bellowing laughter bounced off the walls.

"Whahahaha! Classic!" Arbenzio gasped, clutching his sides and falling onto the floor from the sheer force of his laughter. "The Sword is coming to get you—ha ha—your souls are in danger—ha ha—everyone take cover!—ha—"

Arbenzio's eye twitched as Ticia stood up slowly. The scrap of metal against metal as a sword was drawn sent everyone's hair on end.

The man and the women standing outside the Moghouse shook their heads wonderingly as first laughter, then screams, and finally blood-curdling cries of "Help me!" wafted to them. Glancing at each other as sounds of breaking class and splintering wood reached them, they quickly linked arms and walked away into the night.

-o00o-

She looked terrible. Dressed in only stained rags that barely covered her, Terralyn looked as if she had been sick for ages, and hadn't been fed well at all. Her once fair skin was now bruised and muddied. Dried blood ran along her arms and legs, and her left ankle was swollen and purple in color. Her right arm was also held at a strange angle, giving the impression that it was broken.

"T…Terralyn?" Ylinestra whispered. He received no reply. Standing shakily, the White Mage moved closer to the Red Mage. No hint of recognition or realization entered her dull eyes.

Once an obscure member of the linkshell, Terralyn had gone missing months ago. Alligned to San d'Oria, they had taken her absence with worry but acceptance, after she had mentioned her busy schedule and recent increase in missions. As the weeks had progressed into months, her name had faded from their memory.

Ylinestra swallowed as his forced himself to sit on the bloodied floor next to the woman. She continued to stare straight ahead, swaying slightly from side to side. The White Mage carefully murmured a Cure IV spell for the Red Mage. Watching expectantly, Ylinestra was surprised to find no ounce of healing on her body what so ever.

"That's useless, my White Mage. She's been touched by forces unknown to mortals."

Ylinestra glared hatefully up at Marrok, who was looking down at him from about 15 feet up. At that height, the stone chamber transformed into seven feet high glass, before closing into a stone ceiling. "What have you done to her?"

Marrok raised his chin. "That is of no concern to you, my dear Ylinestra. In fact, she is overdue. Guards."

A dull creak sounded throughout the chamber as two enormous doors that stretched all the way to the glass surroundings opened, admitting three guards inside. Ylinetsra immediately leapt up, but one of the guards stepped forward, backhanding him across the face and sending him flying. Shaking the stars from his eyes, Ylinestra was able to realize that the guards were dragging Terralyn's body out.

"No!" he cried, leaping up once again. The guards barely gave him a glance as they closed the steel doors, Ylinestra flinging himself against them.

"Do not worry, Ylinestra. She will be resting now." Marrok flicked imaginary lint of his shoulder. "Forget about her. We had better get started on you."

Four Black Mages stepped up to the glass above, their faces completely shrouded by their hoods. One seemed to be a Tarutaru, another an Elvaan, the other two Humes or Mithras. Ylinestra couldn't hold back his small moan of fear as they began chanting.

Whatever they were going to do, they were going to start with his mind. A White Mage's strongest point was his Mind. He had to remain calm. If he could withstand the mental pain, then the following physical torture would be less severe to his subconscious. He needed—

_"I'm sorry, we can't be friends anymore."_

The White Mage gasped. Arbenzio? He…he was home? Sitting in his Moghouse and…and yes! There was Arbenzio. His friend, his mentor, his companion, sitting by the fireplace. But…he was talking with someone. It looked like…a Mithra? White silver hair, white ears and tail.

Her ears…they were drooping.

_"Time…time isn't enough."_

Ylinestra's mind screamed at him suddenly, and he was wrenched back into the chamber. He had fallen into their trap. They were only forcing him to see someone taken out of his memory in a negative scenario.

"Hmm. Increase negative energy by parameter 10."

There they were again. No…Arbenzio was standing now, facing away from the Mithra. Her cheek was bruised…had Arbenzio hit her? The Mithra had tears in her eyes now.

_"…Quite frankly, I'm disgusted with you."_

The Mitrha gasped, unshed tears spilling down her face. _"Arben…Arben, _please. _I…I didn't know, I didn't mean…"_

_"Liar," _Arbenzio hissed suddenly. The fire reflected of his eyes—Ylinestra had never seen such hate, not from anyone. _"I…I told you things…I confided in you…and you…you're a…you're disgusting…" _Arbenzio's eyes had turned red. _"I can't believe it…I…I won't believe it! You lied to me! You disgusting, deceiving wretch! That's all you ever were!"_

_"No Arben, please!" the Mithra cried. The Dark Knight had unsceathed his sythe, and was heading straight for the Mi—_

_No…Arbenzio was headed straight for him._

_"Die, you wretch! You lying snake! I trusted you! _I trusted you!_"_

"No, Arben, please!" Ylienstra screamed, flinging up an arm instinctively—

-o00o-

"Stop it Arben, stop!" the White Mage cried as blood poured from his arm. Crystalline tears leaked from his eyes as his backed away from—

What?

Nothing in the physical world, but whatever nightmare the Dark Mages had conjured up for him.

Which could be anything. Or nothing.

"Can you tell me what he's seeing?" Marrok whispered to the nearest one.

Skyee cracked one eye open. "No," she replied in a wispy voice. "Only he can see. Most often they see an apparition of their fear. Others see the past, and some of them see the future. But, whatever he is seeing, I can assure you he is suffering."

The Elvaan nodded once, and turned to exit as more blood leaked onto the floor, ever as the screams continued.

-o00o-

"You will have to free the Tengu," Eternatee whispered, her old, weary voice cracking slightly. "They are a tribe of indigenous Tarutarus that live somewhere off of East Ronfaure. It was by accident that I discovered their civilization, and by accident that I escaped with my life."

"Are they a dangerous tribe?" Ashy questioned.

"Heaven's no," the old Elvaan exclaimed, hold a hand to her chest. "They are as civilized and as cultivated as you and me. But, they are being oppressed by an old demon, who has taken it upon himself to rule that tribe." Eternatee sighed. "I was documenting some flower species near their land when I heard the commotion. I crept upon the village and saw him. Great, massive thing. I had to leave…otherwise, no one would have ever known about them."

Ashy grinned. "So, looks like we'll be doing some fighting after all!"

Pairs of eyes rolled skyward all around the room. Knopfler clear his throat.

"Alright, we'll do everything we can do help, Miss." The Bard bowed to the old Elvaan. "Thank you very much for your information."

"I'm only glad there are still people who can care to help," Eternatee said. "Um…if you will, dearie…may I speak to you one moment?"

Ticia glanced around, then pointed to herself. "Me?"

"Yes, dear. Just for a moment."

Ticia nodded, slightly apphrehensive as the door closed. Eternatee stared at her for what seemed like an eternity, before speaking.

"Please dearie, when you arrive at the village…will you tell them, that Eternatee is sorry she had to leave, and that she couldn't help them?"

Ticia was slightly taken aback at the reclusiveness of the old Elvaan's seemingly innocent statement, but nodded her acceptance anyways. "Of course, ma'am." The Paladin smiled briefly. "I think they will be pleased to know you got away safely."

Eternatee smiled. "Thank you, dearie."

Ticia bowed again, before walking outside to join the other.

Eternatee own smile faded as she watched the bright young souls walk away from the window. She wondered, briefly, if the Paladin and Dragoon were involved. As she gazed at the energetic young man, however, she knew that they were not. Oh yes…she knew exactly who had his heart now. He probably did as well, but wouldn't be able to admit it to himself until a long, long time from now.

It wouldn't matter, though, when he decided to tell her. By then, it would be too late.

It always was. And would always be.

-o00o-

Ylinestra sobbed into the mattress, vainly stuffing part of the blanket into his mouth. They had given him minimal treatment after the torture, just enough to keep him from dying overnight and to get him through another torture session.

The White Mage couldn't even began to describe what he felt. He was a terrible White Mage—he hadn't had the strength to resist once pulled in, his Mind hadn't been strong enough.

No…not nearly strong enough.

What had he seen? Was this a foreshadowing of events to come? The Black Magic—or whatever it had been—had placed him into the mind of a Mithra. Had the Mages done that, or did he do it on his own? And what had happened with Arbenzio? Was he going to kill this Mithra, whoever she was? Had he already done it? And why had Arbenzio been chosen for his witness? Had the Mages randomly picked someone from his memory?

Ylinestra let out one great, shuddery gasp, before falling silent, his tears finally running themselves dry. He couldn't think too much on it. It was obvious that what ever the results, this torture would continue until they received what they wanted, whatever it was, or his body gave out. He had to prepare his Mind, now. Maybe tomorrow, he would be able to withstand better.

He hoped.

Sighing, Ylinestra dragged his painful body into a meditating position. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes to the window to take in the cloudless blue sky.

Which is probably the only reason he saw Carbuncle floating outside his window.

* * *

1—Can you guess what I'm meaning by this? Deletion of a character, is what this is in my story. 


	4. Explanations

**Chapter 4: Explanations**

Disclaimers: I do not hold any claim over Final Fantasy XI or any other of the Final Fantasy games. The only character that I own is Ylinestra, my White Mage.

Summary: When the Shadow Lord strikes back at Vana'diel, one White Mage must discover the truth of the Four Artifacts, and their power in the Realm of the Twilight….for you, Ashy.

Authors Note: Here it is, guys. This is the promised story. Realm of the Twilight was written for my friends in Final Fantasy XI. I decided one day that I would like to make up a fictional story that included real people, somewhere. I appreciate all comments and reviews, but I am not seriously going to try and make this the best fiction on this site. Still, feel free to contact me with any questions or suggestions. This is for you, Ashy.

Side Notes: These characters are not the exact same ones as the ones in Final Fantasy XI. I mean that in respect to their appearances. As some of my friends chose the same characters, hairstyles, and hair colors, I have decided to change the physical appearances of some of them, including my own, Ylinestra. Just so you know, when you see a description of male Hume with green hair down to his feet, or something to that regard.

* * *

Ashy shuddered, warily eyeing the crowd of Tarutarus milling around them. "Tarutarus give me the jimjams," he informed his teammates. 

"Yes Ashy, we know," Ticia sighed, trying not to grin as Ashy cringed away from a particular young Tarutaru that was staring up at the Dragoon with something akin to hero-worship. It had not been too long ago when they had arrived at the village, only to find themselves under siege by a large, pure-white Phoenix. It had been a close fight, too close, really—the bird almost had them beat before they had landed the final blow. The monster had fled afterwards, screeching with pain and flying off in the direction of the Horatio Ruins.

"How can we ever thank you kind souls for delivering us from that terrible beast?" one of the younger Tarutarus cried. His exclamation was taken up by a dozen other tribe members as they crowded even closer. Ashy let out a peculiar little noise, more of a whimper, as the young Tarutaru who had been slowly edging closer to him nearly hugged his leg. Ticia mused as to where Ashy got his fear of Tarutarus. No…not fear, more of an extreme dislike. She supposed it came from a Tarutaru's natural cheer and good-nature—such qualities normally made them very cute and bubbly, much like a teddy bear. Ashy, being the manly leader of the group was, or course, probably a bit apprehensive of such cuddly and naturally cheerful beings.

'Funny that such a charismatic guy like Ashy should be afraid of bubbly creatures like Tarutarus,' Ticia thought. Her observations brought a slight chuckle out of her mouth. Ashy, who no doubt could guess her current train of thought, scowled in her direction, discreetly trying to dislodge the Tarutaru who was, indeed, now hugging his leg.

"You must be tired, good adventurers," the Chieftain said, raising his voice to drown out the on-going cheers of the tribe. "Come, stay with us for a time. You can leave once you have fully rested and re-stocked your traveling supplies."

Knopfler quickly clamped a hand over Ashy's mouth before a vehement protest could work its way out of the Dragoon's throat. "We would appreciate that very much, Abul-tal," the Bard said, bowing slightly.

Abul-tal returned the bow. "Come come, let us set up your huts."

This time Ticia could not contain her laughter as a chagrined Ashy was pulled away by Knopfler into a nearby hut, slightly weighed down by the Tarutaru still clinging onto his leg.

Her laughter died, though, as she stared at their Bard. Knopfler felt her gaze and returned it, almost challengingly, before quickly ducking inside the hut after Ashy. She sighed, turning away to follow a Tarutaru tugging at her arms, completely missing the young Tarutaru that ran screaming from Ashy and Knopfler's hut, a dagger landing inches away from his little retreating feet.

-o00o-

_It seemed to have appeared from nowhere—one moment, they were only just acquainting themselves with the Tarutarus, the next, Azeriel had blazed across the sky, blotting the sun, leaving a trail of shimmering white sparks in the wake of its multi-split tail. They had almost been taken down on the first attack—Azeriel had let loose a sizzling volley of scorching hot white balls of fire, nearly wiping out every last one of them. _

"_Admit!" Azeriel screeched, soaring low over the heads of the panicked Tarutarus. Really, now was not the time to be poetic, but he couldn't help but notice the way the evening sun reflected the off the white feathers, so blinding it almost hurt to look directly at the Phoenix. Its molten-gold eyes blazed rage and fury as it dived down low again, heading straight for the heart of their party. Ticia's cry of pain as the monster slashed at her side with its razor sharp talons jolted him out of reverie._

"_Admit!" Azeriel let out another cry, this one sounding both beautiful and blood-curdling at the same time. It rattled the very ground they were standing on. To his left and right, his teammates fell to their knees, clamping their hand tightly over their ears as the Phoenix Song continued. _

_Why wasn't he feeling the effects of the Song like the rest of his teammates?_

"_We need to shut that overgrown chicken up!" Aarin hissed through clenched teeth, one arm underneath Ticia's as the Paladin clutched at her side. Azeriel had landed momentarily, wings spread fully as it bellowed its terrible Song at one of the huts on the outer edges of the village, where Ashy had herded the Tarutarus into. Golden wrath leapt from out of its eyes as Azeriel reared back its head, white fire building in its mouth. The eyes of a child Tarutaru peering over the ledge of the window were wide, water gathering in the brown irises even as his Mother flung herself over him, vainly pulling him backwards away from the window. _

"_No!" Before he could even comprehend what was happening, Ashy leapt onto Azeriel's back, both arms wrapped around the Phoenix's throat in a chokehold. Azeriel's flaming ball of white fire disappeared harmlessly into the sky as it let out a strangled cry of outrage, flapping its wings in anger and twisting this way and that, trying to dislodge the foreign object sitting on its back. _

"_Admit!" it screeched yet again. Azeriel suddenly took flight, leaving a dust of sand in its wake. Higher and higher they rose, two ballet dancers in the sky, weaving in and out, tumbling, rising, spinning until—Ashy's startled yell was all he heard before the Dragoon slipped off. Azeriel sky-dived at him, claws held straight out in front of it, ready to render him into pieces as they fell, before a strip of flames suddenly cut of its path. Whirling away angrily, Azeriel soared in circles around the village, as Firewing grasped his master's shoulder with his hind legs. Amazingly, the little wyvern managed to hold Ashy's weight until they were hovering only a few feet above the ground, before he let his master drop, exhausted. The Dragoon cradled Firewing close to him, murmuring comforting soft words to his companion even as the wyvern's body went limp in his arms. _

"_It's coming back!" Uuyui shouted, silver eyes following the shining trail of the tail. Sylphyin launched himself into battle position, legs spread and Kunais held at the ready. Azeriel stopped circling—for one, split moment, time stopped as the Phoenix turned to face the village…then, suddenly, time picked up, then started accelerating, as Azeriel dived down, claws stretched, in position to skewer the entire party that stood on the ground below. _

"_Ready!" Arbenzio shouted, Scythe held up over his shoulder, prepared to slice Azeriel in two. "We only have one chance at this! When it reaches the top of this hut, uses everything you have!" The Dark Knight harshly shoved Ashy's shoulder, who was still on the ground, holding the wyvern's body. "Ashy, get up! You need to impale the beast with your Polearm! It's the longest weapon we've got!"_

_The Dragoon was still for a moment more, even as the Phoenix let out its blood-chilling call and zoomed closer. Then he nodded once. Ashy carefully lowered Firewing's body to the ground, pausing for only a split second more to smooth the furrowed skin between the wyvern's eyes. The Dragoon took up his place in front of the group. _

_Ah, he was being poetic again. It struck him now, as never before, why Ashy was the leader of this linkshell. He couldn't even really explain it—only that, as the Dragoon straightened his back, head held high, gazing straight into the burning eyes of the Phoenix silhouetted against the dying sun…_

_Ashy was the best. (1)_

_They had run out of time—Azeriel was on them. _

"Admit!"

"_Now!" _

_The sound of a tree splintering in two and thunder combined rattled his ears—blinding lights flashed all around as every imaginable weapon skill and spell was loosed. A small palm-like tree standing nearby was disintegrated instantly. _

_And above it all, that terrible screech. This time, though, there was pain._

_Finally, _finally_, everything died down. There was a miniature crater in the center of the village, where Ashy was standing. And with him…_

_The steady drip, drip, drip of blood filled his ears, even as his eyes followed the trail of molten silver spilling from Azeriel's body. Its long, elegant, sawn-like neck was arched over Ashy's right shoulder, its beak opened slightly, almost as if surprised. Ashy's face, too, was pressed right into the shoulder blade of the wing, feathers damped with sweat. Azeriel's wings were spread and slightly cupped around the Dragoon—ironically, it almost looked like it was cradling Ashy against it. From his position, he could only see the base of Ashy's Polearm held in the Dragoon firm grip, and the tip of it protruding from the back of the Phoenix, its sharp edge reflecting the sunset._

_No, that was the silver blood coating the blade that was catching the sun's rays. _

_Azeriel let out one trill, then. It was the most tranquil sound he had ever heard—never had he produced such a sound on his flute. The Phoenix gave another trill just like the first, wings still outstretched, claws still braced against the earth, before it looked up._

_And straight at him. He was caught in that gaze. His legs trembled as the fire was snuffed out, leaving only cold and hard—_

Emerald eyes—

"_Admit…"_

_Then, those green eyes—greener than the grasses of Lusiafe Meadows, greener than the emerald shores of Valkrum Dunes—were covered by white eyelids. Azeriel sighed, once more, before slumping against Ashy's body. Wings dropped, feet collapsed…_

_And it was over. Azeriel was dead. _

_Not a breath was heard as Ashy sagged with the immense weight of the enormous bird. Almost reverently, he lowered Azeriel to the ground, before harshly pulling out his Polearm from the carcass. More silver blood showered the ground, some of it painting Ashy's armor, most of it coming to rest with the pool of blood collecting at Azeriel's middle. Ashy stood still, staring down at the carcass, before his numbed fingers slowly unwrapped themselves from his weapon, letting it drop to the dusty ground. _

_Oh yes, his mind reiterated as he gazed at their leader, silhouetted against the sun, triumphant. Ashy is the best. Tension seeped out of the Dragoon's shoulders as he turned to face his party, a grim smile plastered on his face. Uuyui went out to meet him, carefully gripping Ashy by the arm as he helped their leader steady himself. _

_Everyone, however, was suddenly thrown to their feet by a blast of blinding white light._

_Mouth agape, he watched as Azeriel's carcass was suddenly encompassed with a writhing mass of white flames, feeling his companions take steps backward and hearing their startled curses. Higher they rose, twisting and turning in an angry mass of flaring heat before they suddenly imploded—only to burst back in a white blaze that blotted out everything, leaving only whiteness. _

_The whiteness faded, and he finally lowered his hands, only to wish he hadn't. _

_There was Azeriel—flapping it wings, hovering a few feet from the ground. No signs of any injuries, certainly not the fatal blow that had been struck just moments ago. It looked as new and as beautiful as it had when it had first arrived._

_And just as angry. It was still completely engulfed by the white fire now, but it seemed to be getting stronger. Azeriel was alive. _

"_Blast it!" Arbenzio growled low in his throat, hands tightening on his Scythe. "Out of all the abilities it could have…when a Phoenix dies, its body burst into flames and is reborn. But they're usually returned as fledglings, completely harmless," The Dark Knight ground out, frustration and a slight dose of real fear edging his voice. "It must have activated a job ability—being reborn without weakness, just as a fully fledge Phoenix. It's just as powerful as before, if not more so!"_

"_We don't have anything left!" Aarin cried, clutching his thigh, which had sustained a large wound during the blast from a splintered tree. Sylphyin was kneeling by him, quickly wrapping the wound even as he kept an eye on the Phoenix blazing fury. _

"_Admit."_

_This gave the entire lot of them pause. _

_Azeriel didn't screech. It didn't cry, didn't launch any fire, didn't sing its Song. Only one word came from its mouth._

"_Admit."_

_Once again, he was caught in the full, unbarred, uncovered gaze of the Phoenix. And once again, he was struck by piercing emeralds. _

"_Admit." (2)_

_It sounded almost human, now. The voice was soft, and had the hidden lilt of a woman's soprano. It sounded so pitiful—like a frightened young child watching his parents fighting and shouting and hurting, holding back tears and wanting them only to stop fighting—_

"_Please…"_

…_What?_

_Azeriel landed, wings folding in. The fire had died down—instead, it was now encased in that glowing white light, bright enough to hurt should he look directly into it. The Phoenix turned its doleful gaze on each one of them. Again, it stopped to stare at him the longest, cold green eyes standing out clearly against its almost entirely white complex. _

"_Why won't you admit?"_

"_Admit."_

"_Admit."_

"_Admit—" _

_Azeriel stopped, white head bowed. Then, its eyes snapped open, revealing fiery hot molten gold. It unfurled its wings, and ignoring the startled exclamations of the party, ignoring the wide-eyed Tarutarus gathered around the windows of the huts scattered on the far edges of the village, it launched itself into the air, and flew. _

_Straight at him._

_He could only stare into the raging hot golden eyes as Azeriel bore down on him. Claws out, it screeched its horrible cry again, and swiped. _

_He thought he might have passed out for a second or so. The next thing he saw was Azeriel flying away against the night sky, away from the village, away from the Humes it could have easily killed. The glow slowly disappeared over the horizon—one last shimmer, like a shooting star, and it was gone. _

_Someone was calling him, he knew. He could feel something wet sliding down his cheeks—whether it was sweat, tears, or blood, he couldn't tell. It felt like his whole body was numb. The vibrations of feet against the earth altered his senses. _

"_Knop!" Ashy cried, falling to his knees as he came skidding to a stop next to him. The Dragoon glanced at his face, frowning, before ripping off a piece of his shirt tucked underneath his armor and gently dabbing at his cheek. The pain was beginning to hit him, now. Not much—absently, he pushed away Ashy's cloth to feel two shallow cuts on his face. Uuyui and Sylphyin came to his left, the both of them supporting a limping Aarin. Ticia knelt down behind him, gently placing both hands underneath his arms to steady him to his feet. The Paladin took the cloth from Ashy, albeit harshly, and continued to wipe away his minor wound. _

_Amazingly, the village was still in one piece, save for the small crater–like eruption in the center. A harsh wind blew up the debris of nearby huts and plants. _

"_We should go after it, make sure it dead," Arbenzio muttered, absently dipping his fingers into the pool of silver blood that filling the center of the small crater. It ran down his fingers and wrist to drip, drip, drip back into the pool. "That thing is a menace. We can't let it terrorize any more villages like this one."_

_Ashy nodded, eyes fixated on the spot over the horizon where Azeriel had vanished. "We need to rest, first. We can heal here 'til we're fixed up, then we should follow its path." _

"_We might find its resting place," Uuyui added. "Maybe we can catch it while it's weakened or asleep."_

"_Good idea, Uuyui." Arbenzio stood up from his kneeling position, shouldering his Scythe. "Let's see if we can't purloin a hut or two for us to rest. We'll set out in the morning to kill Azeriel, then. If we follow the—"_

"_No." he said suddenly. It would have been too soft for anyone to hear if the natural world hadn't decided to mute itself. Eyes of every color and every emotion swiveled in his direction. Ashy glanced at Arbenzio, the Dark Knight bearing his practiced unreadable expression on his face. _

"_Knop?" he questioned._

"_We're not going after it," he clarified, suddenly too tired to do anything but firmly voice what his heart was whispering to him._

"_Are you insane?" Aarin hissed, teeth clenched against the pain originating from his leg that raked up his body. Ticia murmured a quick Cure on his leg. The Warrior spared her a grateful nod before focusing on him. "That thing is dangerous. Were you even paying attention? With that kind of power, I'm surprised it didn't destroy this place a long time ago. We can't just let it—"_

"_Her," he blurted. _

_This time even Arbenzio's trained face slipped. Amazement and question appeared as the prominent emotions around the party, some tinged with a little annoyance and apprehension. _

"_Azeriel…the Phoenix is a female," he elaborated, needing to explain what he was sure he knew, not caring to explain how he knew it, especially since he wasn't sure where this certainty came from. "A-And she's not a beast. She's just…disturbed, for some reason."_

"_You have gone insane," Uuyui muttered._

"_Azeriel has been terrozing this village for years, Knopfler," Arebznio interrupted, his tone, whether from weariness of annoyance, coming out harshly. "We've only completed half of the battle—Azeriel could be coming back here again tomorrow, for all we know. If we don't kill it now, all this work will have been for naught. You're not seriously going to stand there and tell us—"_

"_We're not going after her."_

_He couldn't explain it to them—they wouldn't understand. _He _didn't even understand this protectiveness that welled up inside of him as he thought of that beautiful bird lying in a pool of its own blood, its screech of pain at its death. The sense of familiarity, a bond that linked him with this bird. Why was he feeling this? Normally he wasn't one to object the entire linkshell from its duty, but this time…_

_Ashy sighed. "Look, Knop, what's going on? You have to see that we need to kill it for good. It's going to keep hurting people so long as it lives." The Dragoon set his hand on his shoulder, giving him a little shake. "It's dangerous, it's powerful—it's a monster, Knop. Why are you trying to protect it? Surely you can see we need to kill it?"_

_And at that moment, as he stared at their wonderful, amazing, perfect, willful, charismatic leader…_

_He would have liked nothing better than to swipe out the small Dagger he always carried in his boot, as a safety precaution, and cut off Ashy's hand that rested so carelessly on his shoulder. _

"We'renot going after it,_" he repeated, shoving off Ashy's hand. _

_None one could question him anymore, however, as the tribe of Tarutarus came spilling out of the huts on the fringes of the village, cheering and yelling and shouting—lighting small fireworks, creating streams of smokes as they surrounded their heroes. _

_Blast it all…he could still feel Arbenzio's chilling gaze spreading ice throughout his back. _

-o00o-

Never before had Carbuncle seemed so beautiful. The blue light that continually poured from his body pulsed faster as Ylinestra stumbled to the window, legs barely supporting his astonished body. The White Mage quickly unlatched the window and gathered his companion in his arms, trying to hold his trembling.

"Carby," he whispered, cradling the glowing blue avatar to him. Carbuncle purred softly, rubbing his head against Ylinestra's chin. "How did you find me?"

"You leave a very distinctive magical scent, Ylinestra," the mystical avatar replied, finally jumping out of his arms to float onto the bed. "There are barriers around this place that prevent you from using certain spells—Summoning is one of them. I Summoned myself at our Moghouse, then followed your trail to this room." Carbuncle's ears sank slightly. "I could feel your pain, Ylinestra. I've been waiting here since they took you."

The White Mage shivered as he joined his friend on the bed, not particularly wishing to conjure those horrible memories. "It's wonderful to see you, Carby, but why did you come? There's not much I can do here, and the barriers around the Tower are no doubt preventing you from using much of your power." Ylinestra turned to gaze somewhat admiringly at Carbuncle. "It's amazing you're even able to hold your form inside. How are you doing it?"

Again, the avatar's face slipped a little, betraying—what? Sadness again, but this time, tinged with hidden knowledge and, and perhaps a little apprehension?

"You give me power, my Summoner," he settled, turning away to hop off the bed. Carbuncle paced back and forth on the plush carpet. "But, there is a greater problem at hand. I have learned some things from my comrades locked in the Underground, Ylinestra. Old forces are stirring, and threatening the world once again." The avatar looked agitated. "Rumors have given rise that now is the time to raise the Twinai."

"Twinai?" Ylinestra absently scratched at his head.

"Not much is know about him. Just that he plays a crucial role in the fate of Vana d'iel." Carbuncle smiled enigmatically, bitter. "I've met him, in another life. He is the one who will save us."

"In another life?" Ylinestra questioned. Carbuncle was still pacing back and forth on the carpet—blue steam and steadily risen from his continuous circling. "Wait…that means, he sometime in this life? Who is he?"

"Another factor in this equation, my Summoner," Carbuncle answered. "The Twinai is continuously born into one soul in each generation. If the Twinai dies, then he is reborn as another. Thus, the Twinai is kept ready to save the world, should the need arise."

The White Mage stared at the avatar in mute silence. Shaking himself slightly, he attempted to clarify everything he just heard. "So, you're saying this guy, is somewhere out in the world, and needs to be found? And you have no idea who he is, what he looks like, even what age he could be?"

Carbuncle nodded.

Ylinestra threw up his hands. "Well that's just great. But why are you telling me all this? I can't even get out of here. And even if I did, is it your duty to find this man? And you want my help?"

"We need not find him immediately," Carbuncle corrected, "and no, it is not my duty to find him." The glowing blue avatar cocked an eye at him. Now, he looked assured and confidant. "However, I knew from the start that you will play some part in this. I've lived since the beginning of the first dawn—if I can't sense these things by now, then I should retire."

"Well, I'll be glad to help, however, and whenever I can," Ylinestra murmured, gesturing at his room, "but I'm afraid I can't be of much use un here."

Carbuncle nodded. "Come, we must meet with someone inside the Tower. He will provide more insight over this whole matter." The avatar frowned at him, before the Ruby on his head started glowing. A bright flash of light, and Ylinestra felt a soothing water flow over his aching body.

"Thanks, Carby."

"Follow." With that, Carbuncle ran over to the door and disappeared through it. His amused voice drifted through the walls—"Make sure _you_ open the door first."

Coloring from the reminder of an incident with his avatar, which had ended up with him sitting on the floor with a bloody nose while Carbuncle ran around his head in circles, Ylinestra opened the door and stepped over the threshold. It didn't occur to him to ask why the door was open in the first place.

The blue light in front led him down a very familiar hallway, past an all too familiar conclave, and down a flight of stairs. With a jolt he realized Carbuncle was taking him back to the Tree Chamber. His suspicions were confirmed as the first green of a nearby tree came into view.

The avatar was floating near the base of the Star Tree and the basket that rested below it—the one that held the precious golden Seed. Ylinestra sped up to him, hand almost automatically going out to fondle his friend's head, before a movement in the shadow of the Tree threw him off.

Ylinestra's hand flew to his back, only to clutch at thin air as he remembered his Staff had been taken from him. Snatching the startled avatar into his arms, he struggled to contain his anger and fear as two figures approached them—one with the height and gait of an Elvaan, the other shorter and wrapped in a black cloak.

"Ylinestra," Skyee whispered.

-o00o-

"So, she made it away?" Abul-tal let out a relived sigh. "Thank goodness. We were all worried about Miss Eternatee that day. She didn't return to us—we feared the worst."

Ticia nodded. She felt at ease in the hut of the Chieftain—slightly larger are more accommodating than the others, this one allowed the Paladin to converse with Abul-tal at her leisure.

She wasn't comfortable, however, with the intense stares she kept receiving from said Tarutaru. He seemed to be trying to probe something out of her, as if she were hiding something very important that he wanted to know. She could not, however, think of reason Abul-tal should be thinking this.

Tinged in with that stare was also familiarity, as if he recognized her. Perhaps they had met up once or twice? It certainly wasn't logged in Ticia's memory—Tarutarus were so short, it was hard to remember an indirect run-in with one. It was unnerving to imagine someone knew or remembered something about you that you couldn't. Unnerving and confusing.

"Please, when you return," the Chieften continued, jolting her out of her musing, "tell her from us that we're glad she made it out safely." Abul-tal sighed, hopped down from his chair and strode over to the window, hands clasped thoughtfully behind his back. "That bird has been terrorizing us ever since the end of the Second War. My ancestors tried moving off this land to get away from it, but it never allowed us to leave. Some have reasoned that it keeps us here to have a constant supply of entertainment and perhaps even food…"

"But that's not what you think."

Abul-tal turned a speculative gaze on Ticia, one that make her skin crawl. "No. Call it a hunch, but I believe that it has kept us here as bait. To draw the attention of other adventurers, such as yourself." The Tarutaru let out a humorless chuckle. "I do not think it intended to find such strong ones, however."

"It's still alive," Ticia warned, shifting her feet slightly. "We…we would go after it to finish it off, but, some disagreements have sprung up between us, I'm afraid."

The Chieften waved a careless hand, cutting off her explanations. "You and your friends have already done more than enough by wounding the beast so far. We will now take this time to move away from this place, while the creature is hiding."

The Paladin nodded. "We're only sorry we couldn't do more." Ticia pursed her lips before standing up, stooping slightly in the hut. "If you'll excuse me, my group is having a meeting before we retire for the night. Thank you once again for your hospitality."

"I hope you find your accommodations comfortable—we don't have any residential areas befitting Big Folk."

"I'm sure we will be comfortable for the night," Ticia laughed, bowing once before sauntering out the door.

Abul-tal chuckled as she left, turning to return to his gazing out of the window. "Yes, you said as much before."

-o00o-

"Please, Ylinestra," Skyee whispered, hands held earnestly in front of her. "I know you must be angry with me, but you have to listen to me first."

"Angry?" Ylinestra hissed, hands tightening protectively around Carbuncle, who was still startled from the sudden approach of Azazer and the Dark Mage. "After you torture me and leave me for the dogs?" The White Mage could practically feel the fire sparking in his green eyes—he was mildly surprise the tree to his left wasn't catching on fire. "I'm beyond angry, Skyee!"

Much like Terralyn, Skyee had been a member of their linkshell from time to time. An excellent mage herself, Skyee had also disappeared for a time. However, her absence had not been as sudden and unannounced as Terralyn's. She would occasionally appeared to utter a brief hello before zooming off to do other things.

"_Prince Prijon has hired me to head an expeditionary project from the home front. I'm really excited about it—I've never been in such favor with the Royal Family before! I won't be able to keep in touch as often though. I'm sorry, Ashy."_

Expeditionary project? Bull. Ylinestra gnashed his teeth together at the memory of her last real conversation with them…or rather, Ashy.

His teeth felt like they were going to break any second. Skyee had always had some sort of fixation with Ashy—he was the one, after all, who had invited her to be a member. As to what the Dragoon felt about her…well, let's just say that he eyed her favorably.

A…_the _Lilac Corsage stood out clearly from her black robes, a mocking reminder of his own lapse in judgment. Ah, great. Now his eyes felt like exploding.

"And you," Ylinestra snapped, turning his wrath on the Elvaan standing impassively in the shadows. "What are you doing here? Come to throw me back to Skyee and the others?"

"Ylinestra!" Carbuncle interrupted, wriggling out of the White Mage's arms to float next to Skyee. "I told you we needed to meet someone. Don't go scaring them off."

Ylinestra stood in shocked silence as the Dark Mage laid a hand briefly against the avatar's glowing head. The Hume sighed suddenly, as if all her magic was being drained out of her at once.

"I've been working here, undercover, for the last couple of years," Skyee whispered, shame coloring her voice. "So has Azazer. I wasn't lying, Ylinestra, when I told everyone Prince Prijon asked a special mission of me. I've been here with Azazer, trying to discover Marrok's schedule."

"So, Marrok's involved in the grand scheme of things, is he?" Ylinestra questioned, not too particularly surprised at all. Something was off in that guy. Carbuncle, sensing his Summoner's distress, ran back over to the White Mage, who cradled the comforting avatar to his chest.

"We only know that he's up to something, and whatever it is, it's not good." Azazer finally stepped forward, reaching out to clasp Ylinestra's hand. The White Mage jerked back, but the Elvaan grabbed his hand in a firm grip. Something filled those sky blue eyes as they locked gazes.

"I'm sorry we couldn't save your friend, Ylinestra," Azazer whispered. His unlatched his hand, and Ylinestra found two items resting in his palms. Two bracelets—one he recognized straight away, tears stinging the edges of his eyes. Blood smeared the miniscule pearls linking the centerpiece of the design.

"_I…well, I heard someone yelling about his bazaar, so I checked him out and found it. It…it made me think of you."_

"_Oh, Sylph! Thank you so much! It's absolutely beautiful."_

Grief choked his throat as he carefully pocketed the bracelet. Ylinestra took a deep, steadying breath before examining the other item he held. The intricate braiding of the thin silver bands, surrounding a crystallized centerpiece with a brown light shimmering within, brought back a jolt from his memory.

"That is the Bracelet of Harbingers," Azazer said. "It should look familiar—you hold its Ring counter piece."

That's why it look familiar—the design was exactly the same as his Ring of Divination. Absently he reached up to finger the Ring on his right fourth finger, only to discover bare skin.

"Not anymore," Ylinestra remembered. "I'm pretty sure Marrok took it when he took me to this Tower. In any case, I don't have it now."

The Elvaan blinked, sharing an uneasy glance with Skyee. "That's impossible—I searched you myself."

"Ahem." All three heads turned towards Carbuncle, who had been patiently floating beside them the entire time. Grinning as only an avatar could grin, Carbuncle closed his eyes, murmuring something under his breath. The Ruby on his forehead began to glow brightly, and with a flash of sparkling light, a ring was shimmering before them. "I believe this belongs to you, my Summoner."

Ylinestra smiled, plucking the Ring of Divination out the air and slipping it onto his finger.

"Put on the Bracelet as well," Skyee said. And upon that, "you should also take this." The Dark Mage fumbled for a bit with her sleeve, and Ylinestra could see she was struggling to undo something pinned on the inside of the long-sleeves of her black robe. Finally, Skyee produced two identical earrings. Each one sported two thin silver band intertwining to gently clasp a crystallized gem resting at the bottom—these, however, gleamed with a faint red light. Skyee pressed these into Ylinestra's hands.

"The Earrings of Foreshadowing," she clarified. "Wear them, along with the others."

"Wait a moment, " Ylinetsra burst out. "What's with all the gifts?" He glared at first one, then the other. "You kidnap me, torture me, tear me to pieces, then apologize and shove pretty trinkets at me to wear? Just what is going on?"

Again, the Elvaan and Hume glanced at each other before answering. "From what we discovered from the documents in this Tower," Azazer finally answered, "these 'trinkets' are part of a set of four that are necessary in Marrok's plan. The Four Artifacts—that is what they are called."

"I purloined those Earrings from the Sealed Room on the first floor," Skyee inserted. If the situation hadn't been so serious, one could have said she looked smug. "No easy feat, I assure you. It won't be long before Marrok discovers the dummy replacements I set up in there are fake. Hopefully, you will have left for Bastok long before then."

Azazer made an impatient noise in the back of his throat, and Skyee sheepishly ducked her head, the enormous hood on her robe falling to nearly cover her entire face. "You, Ylinestra, must find the fourth piece. All we were able to extract about it, though, is that it lies somewhere in Jugner Forest. Were, and how you will be able to acquire it, however, are unknown." The Elvaan's shoulder sagged a little. "We would not send you to do this very precarious task if we were able to leave. However, we are tied with our…_duties_ here, and any excuse to leave would immediately arouse suspicions."

"Then what in the world do you think he's going to think about me when he finds me gone in the morning?" Ylinestra snapped. Carbuncle actually cringed, but could you blame him? It wasn't everyday you discovered you were in charge of a crucial part in the fate of the world.

"Dark Magic is a sacrifice of sorts," Skyee interjected. "It takes tremendous power to use because it extracts a piece of the soul of the user every time it is used. It takes several days, if not weeks and months, to replenish the soul for further use. Marrok will not enforce physical punishment on you for quite some time."

"During said time of isolation, only one captor is in charge of a prisoner." Azazer grinned. "You're my charge."

"So Marrok will not miss you for weeks, at least," Skyee concluded. "By that time, should have collected the last piece."

"And you want me to just, what?" Ylinestra gazed incredulously at the two. "Hold onto them? Shouldn't I at least hand them over to someone more suitable, more experienced than me after I've collected all the pieces?"

Azazer shook his head. "Precious little can know about Marrok and his plans. Panic would spread too quickly should word get out. No, we can't afford to tell anyone else about this. _You_ must keep charge of the pieces, Ylinestra. Wear them at all times, and never let them out of your sight."

Silence, stillness, nothingness fell over the group, save for the steady pulsating of Carbuncle's light. Finally Ylinestra let out a long sigh, before slowly slipping on the Bracelet and fixing the Earrings.

"I can't promise you anything," the White Mage whispered. Carbuncle crooned and nudged his arm from where he stood floating. Ylinestra placed an arm around the avatar as he looked straight into the eyes of the others. "I'll be winging this as I go. But…I can promise you that I'll try. If only because Carbuncle says so."

"When the timing is right, one or both of us will designate a meeting place with you," Azazer said. There was some emotion clotting his voice, but Ylinestra felt too tired to do anything but listen. "We won't try and set up a communication system just yet, but you'll hear from us, I promise." The Elvaan set one hand on the White Mage's shoulder. "Ylinestra…thank you." The hand rested on his shoulder for a moment more before sliding back down to Azazer's side. "Come, you must make your exit now. We'll take the tunnel underneath the basement in my office—it leads straight to the tavern in Windurst Woods."

Aburptly the Elvaan turned heel and walked away, towards the stairs leading up to the main chamber of Heaven's Tower. Skyee remained where she was standing. The Hume only looked Ylinestra in the eye as she held up palm in farewell.

He almost wanted to stick his tongue out at her. Grateful that Carbuncle butted him in the small of his back to propel him forward, thus saving him from a very childish and uncalled for action, Ylinestra followed the tall figure disappearing up the stairs.

Carbuncle happily bounded up the flight of stairs behind him.

-o00o-

"_It's…it's for a Lilac Corsage."_

"_What?"_

"_A Lilac Corsage. Skyee let it slip to me yesterday that she was saving up for a Lilac Corsage, but she doesn't have anywhere near the gil she needs."_

"…_Why are you telling me this, Ashy?_

"_W-well…it's just, well…I-I thought you came into a large amount of gil a couple days ago? From selling your Astral Ring?"_

"_Yes? What about it."_

"_You…you don't have to, Ylin, but…but I really, really, _really _want to get her one, a Lilac Corsage. And, I was wondering…if, maybe I could borrow some gil? Just enough to get it for her."_

"_You're asking me to blow over 300k for an item that probably won't last for more than a year? And on top of that, it's not even for you, you're going to give it to a girl I don't even know?" _

"Yes, _Ylin. Please? I really want to impress her…"_

"…"

"I've already arranged for a ferry to pick you up in Mhuara," Azazer whispered as they stood at the entrance to the tavern. "I'm assuming you have mastered the Mea teleportation spell?"

Ylinestra nodded once, still stiff and disbelieving of this entire night. (3).

The Elvaan nodded as well. The look in his eyes was almost fondness as he gazed at this brave and resilient mage. It was a pity. "Go, then. Fly."

Carbuncle let out a squeak as Ylinestra Released him to make the three-dimensional leap. As the white sparks flew around him, the White Mage looked up and met his gaze once. Then he was gone.

Azazer ran his hand through his hair, mussing it up further. What a night.

-o00o-

Why….

_Why?_

Why was that name always coming back? He couldn't get it away from him—like a plague in his body, the forces to be just couldn't let him forget it and be done with it. That blasted name always kept returning, somehow or another. Imprinted on the pages of his brain, written in blood on his soul, he just couldn't be _rid of it!_...

"What?" someone blurted, over to his right. Knopfler, he thought. His voice sounded just as incredulous as his own thoughts, along with the faces of the other members.

"I said, why don't we go and visit Ylinestra?"

* * *

(1)—Inside joke between our linkshell. Or at least, Ashy and myself. Tra la la... 

(2)—_"Admit. No. Admit. No. Admit."_ James Joyce's _Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. _Excellent novel, if a bit confusing.

(3)—Spoof on myself. I could never get the Mea quest done quite right, and I'm still struggling with it to this very day.


	5. Twilight Interference

**Chapter 5: Twilight Interference **

Disclaimers: I do not hold any claim over Final Fantasy XI or any other of the Final Fantasy games. The only character that I own is Ylinestra, my White Mage.

Summary: When the Shadow Lord strikes back at Vana'diel, one White Mage must discover the truth of the Four Artifacts, and their power in the Realm of the Twilight….for you, Ashy.

Authors Note: Here it is, guys. This is the promised story. Realm of the Twilight was written for my friends in Final Fantasy XI. I decided one day that I would like to make up a fictional story that included real people, somewhere. I appreciate all comments and reviews, but I am not seriously going to try and make this the best fiction on this site. Still, feel free to contact me with any questions or suggestions. This is for you, Ashy.

Side Notes: These characters are not the exact same ones as the ones in Final Fantasy XI. I mean that in respect to their appearances. As some of my friends chose the same characters, hairstyles, and hair colors, I have decided to change the physical appearances of some of them, including my own, Ylinestra. Just so you know, when you see a description of male Hume with green hair down to his feet, or something to that regard.

* * *

Ylinestra counted to twenty, being careful not to pull out his hair in the process. Beside him, Carbuncle hovered, worriedly pacing too and fro, keeping a wary eye on the White Mage. In front of him, the Galka crossed his arms and frowned. 

"I told you, the ferry has been ported. Jueno has issued a halting in any and all ferry shipments. And I don't have any 'special' orders concerning emergency shipping for anyone." His piece said, the Galka guarding Mhuara's ferry port leaned back against the dock house and stared down at the slight Hume.

"But I'm supposed to have a ferry picking me up as we speak!" Ylinestra cried, nearly in tears from his horrible night.

"You'd better head back to Windurst, Hume," the Galka grumbled threateningly. "Lots of strange characters 'been roaming around."

"Ylinestra…." Carbuncle murmured, feeling the anger and desperation rolling off his Summoner in waves.

Angrily, Ylinestra started casting the Mea spell, and just as suddenly as he appeared, the White Mage and his Summon disappeared in a flash of bright sparks. Jumping Whale leisurely scratched his chin, eyes never leaving the spot where the Ylinestra had stood. Strange characters, indeed.

-o00o-

"Are you sure we can trust them, Carby?" Ylinetsra asked for the fifth time that night. The mystical Summon sighed as he gently floated next to his Summoner through Sarutabaruta.

"Yes, my Summoner. I have sensed nothing from them but good will. They will not harm you." The avatar yawned suddenly, blue glow flickering for a moment.

The White Mage's stony stare warmed as he gazed at his loyal companion. "I'm sorry, Carby, I just feel snappish. Finding out I play a part in saving the world, a part which I don't even know how to play, can be very draining." Ylinestra sighed. Not to mention having everything go wrong afterwards—the ferry hadn't arrived for him as Azazer has promised, and even the Chocobo handler at the crag had been nowhere to be found—what a wonderful way to start off saving the world.

"I've kept you out all day and night, too. I'm sorry, Carby; get some rest."

"I would not wish to leave you traveling at night all by yourself, Ylinestra," Carbuncle protested, yet could not disguise another carnivorous yawn.

The White Mage smiled, albeit sadly, before Releasing Carbuncle. The avatar's glowing blue eyes gazed worriedly at him as he disappeared in a wisp of blue starlight.

The warm glow from the avatar now gone, Ylinestra was plunged into the night. He sighed again, leaning heavily on his staff as he continued the long march to Windurst. To his right, one of the towers of the Horutoto Ruins loomed over him, casting a forbidding shadow. The White Mage glanced up at it—

—and was almost blinded by a flash of white. Ylinestra gasped and brought his hands to shield his eyes as the flash grew brighter, pulsating with power. The White Mage barely had time to regain his bearings before a hand clamped over his eyes and the force of a steel blade was at his back.

"Quiet, Hume," a hoarse voice whispered. "Foward, now!"

"Wait, what's going on?—"

From what he could see through the fingers covering his sight, the white light grew steadily dimmer as Ylinestra was propelled further away. Whoever had him was nearly forcing him to run, the blade held readily at his back. All at once, the light was muffled out, and Ylinestra felt the sting of the cold night wind leave him suddenly. His captor threw him on the ground…or rather, a matted floor. Ylinestra quickly scrambled to his feet.

'Great, another Elvaan.'

Tall, handsome, smooth silver hair falling neatly into his eyes—and looking severely annoyed. Bright aqua sparked at him from the slightly slanted eyes. He had the look of someone used to rough living, and someone well-versed in the killing arts. The knife was brought up to Ylinestra's face.

"By the Crag, have you lost your wits? What possessed you to meander around Sarutabaruta this time of night? Do you not know the full moon approaches?" the Elvaan huffed. He impatiently smoothed back a wayward strand of shining silver hair, all the time glaring down at the dumbstruck White Mage.

"And what has possessed you to kidnap me?" Ylinestra retorted angrily. To heck with manners, he was sick of people doing whatever they pleased without giving him a say.

The Elvaan's glare grew angrier. "You should express your gratitude towards me for saving your life, Hume. The Lady in White might have had your head by now."

"The what?"

Aqua stared at him, confusion and annoyance still shining clearly.

"You must not be indigenous to this region." The Elvaan slowly lowered his knife, though he did not sheathe it. "But even those from afar have heard of the Lady in White."

"Well, I'm from Bastok," Ylinestra said absently, standing up and brushing dirt of his white pants, and almost immediately noticed his head was an inch away from the ceiling of the straw hut they were in. Small and constricted, it looked as if it had been designed for a Tarutaru rather than a Hume. The Evlaan, who was still staring at him, was himself crouched down somewhat, which looked quite painful for his stature. The hut was littered with debris, including some destroyed furniture. "Who is this Lady in White?"

Finally, the glare dropped, and was replaced by an expression more sympathetic, thought still untrusting. "No one knows completely _what_ the Lady in White exactly is, only that she has recently taken residence in the Horutoto Ruins. She lies still in its den until the full moon approaches. Then, on the night the full moon shines in full, Sarutabaruta lies in ruins."

"That's impossible," Ylinestra interjected at once. "I've been to Windurst many times, and Sarutabaruta is always lush and filled with flora."

"That, my incompetent Hume,would be the magics ofWindurst. The magic that emanates from Windurst itself gives power to the land that lies near. Sarutabaruta is destroyed by night, but is built once more by the following mornings. Still, many have been taken by the Lady in White, never to return." The glare flared up once more. "You, Hume, might well have been one of these." The Elvaan dropped to the floor, hunching over on himself.

"Where are we, anyways?" Ylinestra said after a tense silence.

"This place I only came across just two moons ago, while I was scouting Sarutabaruta. Obviously, some Tarutaru tribe resided in these dwellings, but everything appears to have been abandoned." Gathering himself up, the Elvaan carefully uncovered part of a window blind, where the white light shimmered through briefly before going out completely. "Why any sane race would take residence so near the Lady in White confounds me." The Elvaan glanced out the window once more before twirling around to face the slight White Mage. "She has retired for the night. Come, Hume. I will escort you to Windurst. You should return to your homeland quickly, after the full moon wanes."

"I…thank you," Ylinestra murmured. "I'm sorry for my rudeness earlier; I've just had a rough night." Smiling, he held out his hand. "My name is Ylinestra."

The Elvaan nodded, aqua eyes shimmering brightly against the muted backdrop of the night as he pulled his right gauntlet off and stretched out his own hand, taking his in a firm grip. "A pleasure. I am Equa." Releasing his hand and moving swiftly now, he held open the door, glanced out and around, before motioning for Ylinestra to exit.

"The Lady in White usually makes one appearance each moon, but we can't be sure. Move quickly and silently, Hume. She will not follow us into Windurst, too much magic protects the city from her wrath." His knife drawn, the Equa followed Ylinestra out of the dwelling. The White Mages took a moment to absorb his surroundings, realizing that this hut had been one of many. They had actually taken refuge in a hut near the edge of this village, with good reason—in the middle, only a small crater was present, surrounded by bare ground. Equa's impatient snort brought him out of his musing, and he quickly followed the Elvaan into the night.

"Return immediately to your home, Ylinestra," the Elvaan instructed as they raced across Sarutabaruta. The entrance into Port Windurst was a tiny black hole in the distance. "It's best if no one discovers you wandering around the night of the full moon."

"Of course, but what about you?"

Equa glanced back at him over his shoulder, smiling bitterly. "I am a wanderer, Ylinestra. I have no home to claim." The Elvaan's eyes glowed almost painfully, shining and swimming. "Once upon a time, I belonged to Windurst. But, my parents were killed while serving this nation. I broke myself from the ties of nationality many seasons ago."

The White Mage was silent as the now walked side by side. "Nationality can tie you down, can't it?" Ylinestra stopped, before shaking his head slightly. "But…it can also bind you together. Sometimes, loyalty to ones nation is the only thing that ties you to your friends and family. It's…it's the only thing we can have in common anymore."

Equa sighed. "You speak wisely, Ylinestra. Still, nationality can race unchecked. It separates the world from itself. Windurst, Bastok, and San d'Oria cannont face the world by itself—yet, we are taught to hate neighboring nations and view them as rivals for lands." The Elvaan shook his head once, before stopping suddenly. The shadow from a nearby tree obscured his face as the lights from the archway leading into Windurst glowed dimly.

"Well, here is where we must part, Ylinestra," Equa said. He grasped the White Mage's left hand in his, holding it up slightly. "I'm sorry our time is short, but these ages, everyone must take care. Return to your nation, Ylin. Where you belong."

_Where I belong?_

Ylinestra nodded, staring down at their joined hands. "Equa, are you—?"

_Whoosh—_

Equa pushed him down, falling on top of him and muffling Ylinestra's surprised cry as Azeriel's claws missed them by a hair's width. The enormous phoenix shrieked as it circled around to face them again, falling beak-first in a deadly dive. Ylinestra and Equa rolled away in opposite directions, the Elvaan jumping nimbly to his feet as the White Mage scrambled to his own. Equa grabbed his arm, pulling him behind a tree as the moonlight flashed off a shuriken he launched. It connected with Azeriel's left shoulder blade, and the duo quickly covered their ears to censor the cry of rage and pain.

Equa was breathing hard now, aqua eyes glowing as they tracked the trail of white blazing across the night sky. "Run for it, Ylinestra. I will distract the beast."

"Are you insane?" the White Mage hissed, clutching his staff to his chest. "That thing will tear you to pieces! I'm not leaving you alone to face it!"

"Your life is meaningless dead, Hume!" Equa snapped, causing Ylinestra to flinch back. The Elvaan sighed, grasping the White Mage's shoulders and bringing their faces closer. "Ylinestra. You have family, friends—a nation that needs you. I have no one that will miss my face. Return home, mage. To _where you belong_."

"Touching, but pointless, Elvaan. Hand over the White Mage now."

Ylinestra mentally groaned as he whirled around to face a shroud of black silk. Marrok's gloating voice sent chills up and down his spine as Equa sized up his opponent.

"Marrok," Equa hissed, knife held up. "Why in the Crystal are you present here?"

"I came here to retrieve what is mine," the taller Elvaanexplained languidly, inspecting his fingernails. "Ylinestra is a slippery mage, I'll give him that, and a Thief to boot. I will need to punish the inside source you must have had to help in your escape." Marrok smiled poisonously. "But, there is always time for that. If you will, my dear…."

Ylinestra didn't have time to register whom Marrok was addressing before the buildup of magic above his head caused both him and Equa to whip their heads skyward. All he _could_ register then was Azeriel sitting in the branches above him, beak wide open, blinding white building in its throat.

Everything turned white as Azeriel unleashed its magic, engulfing everyone, everything in burning white fire. Everything became white, then everything turned black.

And then—everything became nothing.

-o00o-

Marrok easily tossed both the Elvaan and Ylinestra over each of his shoulders. The other Elvaan groaned softly, but remained unconscious. Normally he would have killed an outside interference in a heart beat, but this Elvaan might prove useful for later. Yes…later. He was still unsure of the procedure, but a sacrifice or two might become necessary. Much better to have a couple stored—it was such a bother having to find people willing to die.

And the leak in his services would have to be eradicated immediately, he reasoned as he started off towards Windurst. The fact that Ylinestra was currently wearing three of the Four Artifacts, including the Ring that had started this whole escapade, had not escaped his notice. This was a disaster. If the White Mage had retrieved the last Artifact…how this leak had managed to steal both his own Bracelet and the Earrings through the Sealed Door took some bearing into, as well. Neither was an easy feat.

In any case, he had to get the White Mage out of harms way. Once inside the safety of Heaven's Tower, he could reclaim the Artifacts and set about finding the leak. However, the shuffling of feathers drew his attention behind him, and he was mildly surprised to find that Azeriel had landed on the ground and not moved from its spot.

"Come, my dear, you must be tired. Return to your den, and I will visit you shortly."

Azeriel didn't react at all. Marrok frowned slightly, but knew better than to try and provoke the beast. It was amazing that he was able to provide any influence at all on its mind, but he had attacked it in a moment of extreme weakness a while ago. Still, he could not overindulge his pride into thinking he had total control over Azeriel. After all, it was a wild Notorious Monster, and of the rather powerful extremity.

Shrugging mentally, Marrok hoisted the two adventures into a more comfortable position on his shoulders and begin walking back to Windurst again.

Azeriel blinked once, molten golden eyes observing as a tear fell from its right eye to send a miniscule splash on magic ground. The phoenix crouched down, neck bent slightly as it watched a Casablanca bloom where its tear had fallen. (1)

-o00o-

"Whaddya mean 'who'!" Ashy growled, hands planted firmly on the desk in front of him, providing him leverage as the Dragoon leaned menacingly over the terrified Tarutaru.

"I-I'm sorry-wary, sir, w-we have no re-records of a m-magey-wagey named Ylinestra."

Ashy gritted his teeth in frustration as his teammates cautiously watched the steam exiting from the Dragoon's ears.

"But, our friend became a citizen of Windurst some months ago," Sylphyin interjected. "This is the center for citizenship and housing registration. Surely you must have some records of Ylinestra moving in."

The Tarutaru shuffled restlessly as Ashy whirled on him again, and hastily began shifting through a pile of papers splayed out in front of him. "I-I've checked and re-checked all the records we have of any-wany new citizens Windurst has had in the past year, sirs, and there is no one by the namye-wamy of Ylinestra."

The Dragoon looked as if he might launch across the desk at any moment. Knopfler grabbed the back of his collar as Ashy's sword hand twitched. "If he doesn't have anything, then that's that, Ashy," the Bard said placidly. "We can check the Residential Area again."

With another growl Ashy pulled free and stalked out the door.

His teammates followed. Outside of Heaven's Tower they found the Dragoon nearly yelling into his linkshell. From the regular pauses, it was obvious that Ylinestra wasn't picking up. Ashy slammed the linkshell into his pocket and paced restlessly. He halted abruptly as his teammates caught up with him.

"Where could he be?" Ashy exploded, hands tangled in his hair in frustration. "He wasn't at his house in Woods, he's not wearing his pearl, and he's not even registered as a Windurst citizen!"

"Ashy, calm down," Ticia snapped, at wits end herself. They had searched all day once they had returned from their mission, which had included escorting the Tarutaru tribe to Windurst. The night they had spent with the tribe had been a pleasant one, celebrating their victory over Azeriel.

Upon returning to Windurst, however, they had been surprised not to find Ylinestra anywhere. Not at his house, not at Heaven's Tower, not at the Clothcrafters Guild—further more none of them could contact him with the pearl. They had searched until nightfall; it was nearly midnight now. Ashy had quickly come to assume the worst. The others were thinking of more practical reasons for Ylinestra's absence.

"He could just be out training with a party, Ashy, and taken off his pearl so he could concentrate," Aarin reasoned. Uuyui remained silent, arms folded as he leaned back against the tall pillars supporting Heaven's Tower.

"But he never does that," Ashy argued, resuming his pacing. "He always at least checks in with us to say if he's taking it off or not." The Dragoon absently waved away a curious fly near his face. "What if a crazy Elvaan kidnapped him or something! We've gotta find him!"

"What we need to do, Ashy, is calm down," Ticia stated. "My brother is a big boy—he can take care of himself. Why are you so agitated about this, anyways?"

For some reason, this stopped the Dragoon cold, mouth agape. He stared at the Paladin, seemingly frozen in time, before snapping his mouth shut and spinning around to face away from them.

ChaosMaelstrom was at a lost. Uuyui finally stepped up, coming to stand next to Ashy. "Ashy, what are you thinking?" he whispered.

Ashy's sizzling green eyes glanced up at him, emotion swimming as clearly as a book underwater. "I—"

"Sirs! Oh, Bastokan sirs!"

Ashy's left eye automatically twitched at the sound of a small Tarutaru's whine. The little being's legs were moving rapidly as she scurried over to the adventures. Breathing hard, she came skidding to a stop, hands on her knees as she strived to catch her breath.

"S-sirs,' she wheezed, eyeing the Bastokan emblem on Ashy's Aketon, "you are the linkshell that was sent over by Sir Lucius, yes?" The little Tarutaru's eyes were round as gil coins. "You have been summoned-wummoned to the Bastokan Embassy at once!"

"…This is kind of a bad time," Knopfler said hesitantly. "Can't we report in later?"

The Tarutaru gal shook her head, red ponytails flying widely. "No sirs, I'm sawy-wawy. Miss Malek says it's very urgent!"

Sylphyin yawned. "Well, let's go, then. We can stay the night and see if we can find Ylinestra tomorrow."

"…Fine," Ashy said. "Let's go, Chaos."

"Hey, where's Arben?"

The group swiveled this way and that. Their Dark Knight was no where to be seen.

"Oh, I remember," Ticia exclaimed suddenly. "He said he was going to head out to the Horutoto Ruins for a bit, after we decided to check with Housing. Something about needing to take care of a quest."

"Oh, okay then," Ashy said, carefully eyeing the impatient Tarutaru who was currently tapping her tiny foot. "Onward, Chaos!"

-o00o-

"For all that time I spent with you, Ylinestra, you were always such a heavy sleeper. Time to wake up."

Ylinestra groaned, hands automatically coming up to shield his sensitive eyes from the glaring white light that seemed to emanate from nowhere and everywhere, only to find them being restrained somehow. A low hum invaded his ears, and the White Mage groggily made to stand as he came upon the realization that he was bound on something soft and tender, and unable to move his arms and legs.

That voice sounded awfully familiar….

"There we are. No need to fear—I made sure to take care of that little annoyance some time ago. And here _you_ are, my dear friend. I took the liberty of acquiring this for you. You'll be needing it right about…now."

A tall presence intruded into his space, and Ylinestra moaned quietly as the other carefully smoothed away a space beside the White Mage's head, before retreating backward slightly. The tall presence that was currently meddling with something at his feet seemed to have smooth dark hair, though Ylinestra couldn't be sure if the haze across his eyes was telling him truth from fantasy. The arched gleam that shone off the curved blade of a scythe cut across his vision as the—it looked like a Hume? Or an Elvaan—stood up, carrying something with him. The figure laid it down next to Ylinestra's face, and the White Mage felt something fuzzy. The thing pushed a pulsating golden light into his haze, and his vision improved just a little bit more. Now, though, he was having difficulty breathing, as if the thing was sucking up the air next to him.

It…it was so warm….

"Alright…it's all set. Here is the last part."

A yell—Equa. Equa stood out clearly against the white backdrop of his sight. The Elvaan seemed as clear as a trumpet call in the night as he swiped an arch of gold across the sky with his knife. The other figure cried out in surprise as he fell back, crumpling on the ground as he did so. Aqua eyes shone clearly as Equa raced to the White Mage, knife still held up. He began cutting away at something on Ylinestra's right side, and as snapping sounds filled the air the White Mage felt the pressure that held him down lessen away.

"Ylinestra…Hume! Can you hear me? Ylin?"

Ylinestra thought he managed to garble the Elvaan's name, but he assumed otherwise at the look of confusion on the other's face. Aqua eyes speared the white veil over his vision as the look changed to amazed comprehension. Ylinestra got it in his mind to try and ask what was wrong; instead, he found his eyes following a trail of blood that slipped from a corner of the Elvaan's mouth. Slowly, as if falling asleep, Equa dipped forward, coming to rest against Ylinestra's chest. The sickening sound of flesh being separated from metal reached his ears as a black gloved hand raised a Sword in front of his face.

It glowed like all the stars in heaven thrust into one constellation. An intricate design of a dragon intertwined along the handle of the Sword, gleaming with opals (2). Four thin, nearly transparent bands of silver weaved from the base of the Sword to around midway, circling each other at some places and interweaving at others. A ruby red substance slowly trailed down the blade, coming to pool at his feet.

"The Hanabi, also known as the Sword of Destinations. Impressive, isn't it? And it's all yours, Ylinestra. But come, I sense interference soon. Here is your last piece—you look stunning, my dear."

Ylinestra struggled weakly as his shining golden hair was pushed aside. Maniacal laughter reached his ears as the figure attached something around his neck—a necklace of some sorts, that glowed a faint azure. His free arm, seemingly acting on its own accord, flung around the Elvaan lying on his chest, waiting for him to stir, to move, to even return to his _Home Point_—

The golden thing beside his face glowed brightly now—it was burning. It felt as if it was trying to melt off his face, it was so hot. In front of him, the Sword rose out of the other's hand, turning around to face its sharp point at him. His hand clutched at Equa's tunic as the Sword plummeted at him.

Ylinestra screamed.

-o00o-

"Marrok left some time ago," Skyee rasped, throat clearly sore. She took another sip of her herbal tea before taking a deep breath and continuing. "I was looking around his office when he—or something he set on me—attacked. I was completely drained or magic and power; I was knocked out before I could register what was happening." The Dark Mage sighed and glanced out the window, where dawn was breaking over Windurst. "I think it's been a couple of hours, maybe more. Azazer is gone as well; he did not meet me at our weekly rendezvous session." Skyee shook her head, slowly. "I fear Marrok has already taken care of him."

Silence enveloped the Consulate of Bastok.

"So," Uuyui finally spoke up, "you're saying Ylin is in the hands of an insane but very influential madman who, after torture upon torture, could very well kill him at any moment?"

"Darnit!" Ashy burst out, slamming a fist on the conference table. "How could this have happened?"

Skyee flinched. "I don't know," she whispered, almost in tears.

The Dragoon's expression softened as he sighed and knelt down next to Skyee's chair, taking her free hand in both of his. "I'm sorry, Sky, it's just been a long night."

The Dark Mage shook her head again. "No, there is no accounting for my lapse in judgment. I should have guessed Marrok would be up to something tonight when he informed us he was traveling out to West Sarutabaruta for a while. I'm sure he's headed to the Horutoto Ruins, the centerpiece for all his ancient magicings." Skyee shifted slightly, clutching her tea cup until her hand turned white. "Everything was going fine until tonight! I just don't understand how Marrok could have gotten word of Ylinestra's escape so quickly."

"Well, there's no guarantee that Marrok actually found my brother," Ticia interjected, trying to give hope to the hopeless. "If Ylin left when you say he did, he should be halfway across Valkrum by now. And even someone as skilled as Marrok can't track down the exact path of someone in such a short amount of time."

"He did seem remarkably calm about the entire ordeal," Skyee admitted, frowning as she recalled the details before her attack. "But the fact that he remained so composed gives me more grounds to fear then if he were panicked."

Grim nods of agreement flitted about the room as they processed this news before Malek cut in. "For now, we must concentrate on the matters at hand," she said sternly, eyeing Ashy, who was still staring at Skyee. "You must track down Marrok at the Horutoto Ruins. Leave now, before something else occurs."

"Something, like—"

The door to the Consulate slammed back on its hinges as Arbenzio came clamoring in, face white-stricken and wide as the varied exclamations of surprise died down. His almost cat-like eyes quickly took in the situation in one swift, calculating glance. Behind him, the Tarutaru girl that had led them stared up at the Dark Knight, eyes wide and afraid.

"I see you all are taking your sweet time," Arbenzio muttered, pushing dark hair away from his face. He held his scythe at an awkward angle, as if he had struck at something and was expecting it to fly at his back at any moment. "There's been an immense magic buildup at the west entrance into the Horutoto Ruins. We need to get over there, now!"

"C'mon, then!" Ashy cried, unsheathing his sword. Firewing swooped in out of nowhere, breathing bursts of flames as he mirrored his master's excitement and anticipation for an upcoming battle. ChaosMaelstrom rushed outside, the Dragoon leading the way out of Port Windurst.

Malek followed slowly, stopping at the open door to stare at the retreating backs of the brave linkshell. Her eyes lingered on the one that was called Arbenzio, trailing over the scythe that was now slung on his back. One black gloved hand raised to tighten a leather strap over his shoulder as the Dark Knight disappeared into West Sarutabaruta.

The informant for Bastok turned back inside to be captured by a pair of onyx eyes. Their sightless look gave Malek the information to know that Skyee was Seeing. A few moments later, and the look cleared. The Dark Mage stared at her for an eternity longer, before the eyes lowered, and her head shook, just once.

Malek sighed. What a night.

-o00o-

"It was wide open when I passed by it, I swear!" Arbenzio shouted, hands pressed against the sealed chamber door that would usually lead one down into the Horutoto Ruins.

"Well then, why is it closed now?" Ashy shouted back, jamming his shoulder against the door as Firewing butted it with his head, only to flap backwards, dizzy. Above them, the wind picked up, and the crazy light show grew wilder. Blinding white lights danced from the top of the Tower over Horutoto Ruins, but stayed out of reach from the vision of the adventures. Magic cut through the air like a hot knife through butter, invading their senses with its sheer presence and power. Knopfler, the one of them most in-tune with magic, was on his knees, hands held fast over his ears as his magic senses called out to the wild magic that raged across Sarutabaruta.

"Why assume that I know!" Arbenzio screamed, finally dropping his hands from his futile attempt at opening the door.

"Enough!" Aarin cried, having come up beside the two in order for them to hear. "We have to return to Windurst! This is getting us no where!"

"We can't leave!" Ticia protested, one arm around Knopfler, trying to get him to stand. "We have to stay until at least some backup arrives! There's no way Windurst can ignore this—surely they will send someone to investigate!"

"We'll all be dead before that time comes!" Sylphyin shouted.

"Chaos, retreat!" Aarin ordered as the wind blew a forceful gust into the chamber, nearly knocking all of them off their feet. Knopfler let out a keening wail as the magic pressed down harder on them.

"Chaos, stay!" Ashy countered, still pressing against the sealed door. "As your leader and the former of this linkshell, we stay!"

"You're mad!" Aarin screamed, whirling on the Dragoon. "We'll all die out here at this rate!"

"Better dead than leave one behind!"

"Think of us, Ashy! Think of our safety and our dangers, for _once!_"

Ashy whirled around then, pent up rage blazing clearly in his eyes. "And just what have I been doing all this time?" he screamed. "I've taken care of you guys since we met in Gustaberg, I've taken care of you guys ever since we formed this linkshell, and now I'm going to take care of you guys now, all of you! I'm your leader, you have no right to challenge me now, _now_, when we need unity and cooperation!"

"Then maybe this linkshell needs a new leader, O Reckless One!" Aarin shouted. "You only care about adventure, limelight, being the best—and your precious Skyee! I can be a better leader than you! _I deserve to lead!_"

"You don't deserve squat if you're willing to leave one of your family in the dust!"

"Better to save the rest of my family than to have us all perish for one!"

_"I'm not leaving Ylin!—"_

The door flung open, sending a blast of light and wind that knocked them all completely out of the chamber. Blinding white light seemed to fill the entire world. Firewing shrieked somewhere to their right as Ashy grabbed him and pulled the wyvern underneath his own body. Screams and shouting exploded as the light grew brighter and hotter, like staring into the face of the sun.

And suddenly, the light faded, the wind stopped, and the doors slammed shut.

Ticia was the first to shakily get back onto her feet, eyes fastened on the door, which was once again sealed shut. The Paladin was breathing hard, but she firmly set her mouth and carefully walked forward. Wispy smoke was exiting from the chamber, blotting out the inside. Ticia stpped forward a few more steps, sword raised.

Behind her, Arbenzio and Ashy rose to their feet, shaking their heads groggily. Aarin, Uuyui, and Sylphyin followed, Uuyui stopping to put an arm under Knopfler's own and raise him to his feet. Firewing growled low, piercing red eyes glaring into the mist that led to the Horutoto Ruins. Slowly, the wispy smoke cleared, allowing the linkshell to finally see two figures, lying face down on the floor.

"…Hey," Ashy called hesitatingly to the two, receiving no reaction. The Dragoon slowly walked closer, until he promptly stopped, a blush spreading from his neck to his hair roots.

One of the figures was completely naked. A Mithra, if his eyes could clearly make out the white tail and ears that adorned her figure. Her slim body was unusually pale and milky against the cold stone floor as the linkshell took in the only resemblance of clothing she wore, some jewelry. The other figure, an Elvaan, was lying in the near same position as the Mithra, one arm outstretched toward the girl. A thick red substance steadily oozed out from underneath him, and the paling of faces around the chamber gave testament to the knowledge of said substance.

Finally, Ashy stepped forward again, the others following carefully. Firewing dropped down, hissing softly at the Mithra, nudging her shoulder with his snout—

—one of the Mithra's arms shot out. Ashy and Firewing jumped back in alarm, and Arbenzio unsheathed his scythe with amazing speed and accuracy. The Mithra's hand latched onto that of the Elvaan's, tightening almost desperately. Her shining silver hair, which fell in smooth waves almost to her waist, rustled as the head turned blearily, allowing the linkshell a glimpse of her tear-streaked face.

Molten golden eyes pierced into their souls.

_raging hot golden eyes—_

Three thousand emotions filled her irises as the girl took in the band of adventurers surrounding her. She gave a little whimper, hand clutching at the Elvaan tighter as, seemingly unknowing of her own nakedness, she struggled to stand. Immediately Ticia strode forward, gently helping the Mithra up as her grip on the Elvaan's hand fell slack, allowing it to drop back to the ground while she looked ahead of her in stunned silence, eyes wide and unfocused. With a glare from their Paladin, Uuyui handed over his cloak, which Ticia carefully placed around the girl's shoulders. The Mithra, however, took no notice of the kind gesture.

She had eyes only for one.

Tears filled her strange golden eyes as she stumbled forward with a muted whimper, launching herself at Ashy, the cloak flying wildly free. The Dragoon barely had time to let out a startled exclamation before the naked girl wrapped her arms around his waist, her shining silver head barely coming up to his chin. His teammates stared in shock, tiredness and curiosity seeming to overtake their sympathy for this girl and her companion.

A single whisper, in a voice of the sweetest melody, fell from her lips, providing the final blow to the night that would forever change the fate of Vana'diel.

The Mithra gazed into the Dragoon bewildered eyes, before her eyes suddenly dropped shut and she slumped against him. Ashy quickly grabbed her, face still aflame. Around him, Chaos stared wonderingly as they pondered her single, spoken word.

_"Ashy…"

* * *

_

(1)—The Casablanca flower in FFXI has special meaning to me.

(2)—My own birthstone. I think the opal is the most beautiful, because of its wide variety in colors, or lack thereof.


End file.
